


Poor Tom

by OpenPage



Category: 21 Jump Street (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rape, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 00:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 49,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpenPage/pseuds/OpenPage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on what could have happened in the 21 Jump Street Season 3 Episode “Swallowed Alive.”</p>
<p>In an attempt to solve a murder, Tom Hanson and Doug Penhall are undercover at the Riverbend Juvenile Facility as the notorious McQuaid brothers, with Dennis Booker and Harry Ioki as backup.  Suffering an unexpected onset of claustrophobia, Doug is taken from the center and placed in the county psychiatric hospital but is quickly released when Jump Street’s senior officer, Captain Adam Fuller reveals his cover.  Not long after, both Booker and Ioki are unexpectedly transferred, leaving Tom alone and vulnerable among a group of tough, violent delinquents.  This narrative recounts the story of Tom’s psychological recovery as he tries to come to terms with the abuses he suffered at the hands of his young attackers.  He finds support and solace from an unlikely individual, his fellow Jump Street colleague, Dennis Booker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trampled Under Foot

**Author's Note:**

> As an avid Led Zeppelin fan, I have taken the name of this fic (plus all the chapter names) from Led Zeppelin songs.  Why you may ask?  Well, it is purely because there are some fantastic song titles to play with that fit in brilliantly with this fic, especially the title “Poor Tom” I mean really, how perfect is that!  Enough said, I hope you enjoy my story.  
>  **Disclaimer:  I do not own 21 Jump Street or any the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. All characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. No copyright infringement is intended.**  
> 

**Trampled Under Foot**  

Sitting alone in a tiny solitary confinement cell, Tom could hear Doug’s anguished screams resonating off the walls.  A feeling of complete hopelessness overwhelmed him as he struggled to come to terms with his current situation.  He and Doug had only been undercover at the Riverbend Juvenile Facility for a few days and so far, nothing had gone to plan.  Their orders had not come from their regular commanding officer, Captain Adam Fuller but from a Captain Arthur McCormick who had taken over the Jump Street command temporarily whilst Fuller took a deserved three-day break.  He and Doug were in the detention center masquerading as Tom and Doug McQuaid, two delinquent brothers who had bad attitudes and rap sheets as long as their arms.  Their Jump Street colleagues Dennis Booker and Harry Ioki were also undercover at the facility as the _Samurai Boys_ , just in case things turned ugly.  Their assignment was relatively simple, find out who had murdered a detainee by the name of Ricky Green.  According to the autopsy report, someone had forcibly injected Ricky with an overdose of heroin and Arthur McCormick wanted to know who was responsible and how the drugs were getting into the center.  

Everything had been going to plan until Tom and Doug entered their cell.  Unbeknownst to Hanson, Doug suffered from chronic claustrophobia.  Their first night locked in, Doug had paced back and forth along the length of the chipped floor, his nervous energy slowly driving Tom crazy.  Hanson had finally been able to calm his partner by sitting up all night and talking to him.  Their conversation had been somewhat morose.  They had discussed the pros and cons of sending juveniles into places such as Riverbend and whether or not it scared them straight or just scared them so much that they had nothing else left to fear.  The following morning, overtired and irritable from lack of sleep, Tom had confided to Booker his fears about Doug’s erratic behavior.  Dennis took it upon himself to score some sleeping tablets from another detainee, Matty _“The Hammer”_ Richardson , who was effectively in charge of Zone D, which was more commonly known as _The Dead Zone_ or just _The Zone._   When Booker had attempted to pass the drugs onto him, Hanson had reacted badly, knocking the pills out of Dennis’ hand and onto the asphalt of the exercise yard.  He had told Dennis that there was no way he was giving his partner drugs and he would find another way to deal with Penhall’s phobia.  It was this solitary act out in the yard that had ultimately been Tom’s undoing.  Matty Richardson had taken an instant dislike to Tom and Doug, so he seized his chance to _stick it_ to the McQuaids by reporting to the Facility Director Mr. Clayton Bates that he had seen Tom making a buy.  Matty had then ordered his flunkey, Jerome _“Bloodhound”_ Jackson, to plant drugs in Doug and Tom’s cell.  Guards had searched their cell and found the illicit substance and Tom knew there was no point in protesting his innocence and saying someone had framed them. So he took the fall, knowing that Doug would not be able to cope in solitary.  His only fear was how Doug would deal with being on his own once the guards locked him in for the night.  

His partner’s tormented screams from a solitary cell next door answered his question.  Doug had obviously suffered a melt down and the irony was that he had ended up in a room smaller than his original cell.  Sitting on the cold, cement floor, Hanson covered his ears in an attempt to drown out Penhall’s tortured screams.  He could only hope the guards would realize that Doug was not faking it and take him out of his claustrophobic environment; otherwise, there was a real risk that his partner would lose his mind completely.

**

Hours after his arrival, Doug’s screams had turned to a pitiful whimpering and Hanson had finally managed to grab a few hours sleep whilst uncomfortably curled up on the hard concrete floor.  Sometime during the early hours of the morning, he heard guards enter the block and take Doug away.  Tom was not sure if he felt relief or fear for his partner.  He could only hope that now that Doug was out of solitary, he would once again be able to function as a trained undercover officer.  They were in an unpredictable setting and Tom needed Penhall to be fully alert and have his back if needed.  Although _The Dead Zone_ housed teenagers aged between fourteen and seventeen, Tom was aware that many of them were hardened criminals who would think nothing of sticking a fellow detainee with a homemade shiv if the opportunity arose.  At twenty-one years of age, Hanson was older than any inmate housed at Riverbend but physically, he was a lot smaller than many of the teens.  He could hold his own in a one on one fight but if he found himself attacked by a gang, he knew he would be in big trouble.  Another concern was that security in the center was incredibly lax.  The head guard Morty, would ignore almost anything if enough money crossed his palm.  Add in the fact that Matty _"The Hammer"_ appeared to run The Zone without too much interference from the security staff and Tom knew he would have to tread carefully.  The assignment was turning out to be far more risky than what Captain McCormick had led them to believe during their briefing.  Since arriving, Tom had not even been able to make a phone call because Matty was also in charge of the telephone.  It was standard procedure when on a case to report in and Tom wondered if McCormick was pissed because neither he nor Penhall had made the call.  Hanson was well aware that if Fuller had been in charge they would have been far better prepared and a backup plan would have been set in place in case of unforeseen circumstances.  Tom laughed silently to himself.  Doug’s emotional breakdown had certainly fit that criterion.  

The loud clanging of a metal door opening had Tom scrambling to his feet.  Moments later, he heard loud footsteps echoing down the narrow corridor.  The bolt of his cell door screeched annoyingly as a guard pulled it back and the door slowly opened.  Hanson squinted his eyes as sunlight flooded into his cell.  “Time's up McQuaid,” the guard advised him. “You’re going back to The Zone.”

“Where’s my brother?” Tom asked, concerned for Doug’s state of mind but keeping his voice casual.

“County loony bin from what I heard,” the guard laughed as he shoved Tom in front of him.  “Looks like you’re on your own now.”

Tom managed to contain his smirk.  He was not alone, he still had Booker and Ioki but of course, all anyone at Riverbend knew was that the McQuaids and the Samurai Boys were acquainted with each other, not that they were in fact colleagues.  He was grateful that McCormick had at least had enough smarts to send in backup, otherwise he would be screwed.

Upon entering Zone D, Tom immediately looked around for Harry and Dennis, hoping that they could have a quiet chat about what had happened to Penhall.  Not seeing them in the recreation room or their cell, he wandered out into the open-air exercise yard.  It took several minutes for him to realize that neither of the undercover officers were outside.  Spotting a tall lanky offender by the name of Mick, Tom walked over and addressed him. “Have you seen the Samurai Boys?  They owe me money.”

Mick tossed away the cigarette he had been smoking and ground it out with the toe of his boot.  “Transferred this morning to the Cavan Center,” Mick replied. “Guess you won’t be getting your money back.”

A cold shiver ran down Tom’s spine.  “Who ordered it?” he inquired, careful to keep his tone neutral.

Mick lit up another cigarette.  “Bates, from what I heard.  He reckons they were in need of some _extra_ discipline.”

Tom nodded and began to walk away, his mind in turmoil.  He felt a hand on his arm and he turned back around.  “You’d better watch yourself McQuaid,” Mick warned, blowing smoke into Hanson’s face from his freshly lit cigarette.  “Word’s out that Matty don’t like you much.  If you ain’t careful, you’re gonna find yourself in a world of pain.”

“Yeah?” Tom replied, channeling his inner McQuaid _I don’t give a fuck_ attitude.  “Maybe Matty’s the one who needs to watch out.” 

Mick smirked.  “That’s tough talk Tommy, but somehow I doubt you’re gonna be a match for The Hammer.”

Tom smiled as though completely unfazed whilst inside his heart was pounding.  “I guess we’ll soon find out,” he replied as he caught sight of Matty striding towards him with his gang of lackeys in tow.  

Mick stepped backwards.  “Good luck,” he murmured with a laugh.

Hanson immediately went on the defensive and before Matty had even stood still, he slammed his fist into the teenager’s jaw.  Matty hit the ground hard, his expression dazed.  Tom danced lightly on his toes, his fists raised.  “Who’s next?” he challenged, knowing he was probably going to receive an almighty beating but needing to stand his ground so as not to blow his cover.

“Oh man, you are so fucked,” Bloodhound replied, glaring angrily at Hanson.  “Nobody takes down The Hammer.”

The beating was over in minutes.  Tom lay on the ground, his face covered in blood and his bruised ribs screaming with pain.  Nobody stayed to help him, they all wandered away once it was obvious that the fight was over.  Bloodhound had laid one final brutal kick to Tom’s battered body before leaning down and whispering in his ear. “You’ve made yourself a lot of enemies McQuaid, you’d better sleep with one eye open.”

Spitting blood onto the ground, Tom gazed up at the tall youth.  “Six to one ain’t a fair fight.  Let’s see what happens when it’s just me and Matty.”

Bloodhound laughed.  “That ain’t ever gonna happen _Tommy_.  Matty runs The Zone and we’ve all got his back.  You’d better realize that we own you now and there ain’t nothing you can do about it.”

Tom could still hear Bloodhound’s laughter as he walked away to join his mates.  Scrambling to his feet, Hanson stood swaying for a moment before limping back inside, his arms wrapped around his aching ribs.  He entered his cell and closed the door before lying carefully on the lower bunk.  He draped an arm across his bruised eyes and tried to control his breathing.  Every rise and fall of his chest had his ribs screaming with pain and tears threatened to spill from his dark eyes.  His only hope was that Fuller was now back in charge at Jump Street and realizing that he had not reported in, would find a way to contact him or pull him out.  If not, Hanson knew he was in serious, life threatening trouble.  



	2. That's the Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: The beating was over in minutes. Tom lay on the ground, his face covered in blood and his bruised ribs screaming with pain. Nobody stayed to help him, they all wandered away once it was obvious that the fight was over. Bloodhound had laid one final brutal kick to Tom’s battered body before leaning down and whispering in his ear. “You’ve made yourself a lot of enemies McQuaid, you’d better sleep with one eye open.”_
> 
> _Spitting blood onto the ground, Tom gazed up at the tall youth. “Six to one ain’t a fair fight. Let’s see what happens when it’s just me and Matty.”_
> 
> _Bloodhound laughed. “That ain’t ever gonna happen Tommy. Matty runs The Zone and we’ve all got his back. You’d better realize that we own you now and there ain’t nothing you can do about it.”_
> 
> _Tom could still hear Bloodhound’s laughter as he walked away to join his mates. Scrambling to his feet, Hanson stood swaying for a moment before limping back inside, his arms wrapped around his aching ribs. He entered his cell and closed the door before lying carefully on the lower bunk. He draped an arm across his bruised eyes and tried to control his breathing. Every rise and fall of his chest had his ribs screaming with pain and tears threatened to spill from his dark eyes. His only hope was that Fuller was now back in charge at Jump Street and realizing that he had not reported in, would find a way to contact him or pull him out. If not, Hanson knew he was in serious, life threatening trouble._

**That's the Way**  

With a loud groan, Hanson pulled himself up into a sitting position.  It was time for the evening meal but Tom would have liked nothing better than to remain lying on his bunk, resting his aching body.  But he knew he had to confront his attackers or risk losing face.  The McQuaids had a reputation as tough, resilient delinquents and Tom needed the inmates of The Zone to see that the beating had not broken his spirit.  

Standing up, he limped over to the mirror that hung over the small sink in his cell.  He examined his battered face, wincing as his fingers carefully checked over his nose to see if it was broken.  His eyes were already starting to blacken and he had a large gash over his right brow.  His knuckles had split but were already scabbing over and the pain in his hand gave him some sense of satisfaction that at least he had managed to get in a few good punches. Grabbing a wad of toilet paper, he dampened it under the faucet before carefully dabbing at his bloodied face.  Tossing the paper into the toilet, he unzipped his jeans and emptied his bladder.  Flushing the lavatory, he turned and limped out of his cell and into the communal eating area.  Soft murmurs echoed around the room when he walked in and several boys pointed towards him.  He stood silently in line and watched as the swill that the cook served as food slopped unappealingly onto his tray.  He noticed that the boy serving him only gave him a half ration but as he was not hungry, he decided not to complain.  Hobbling over to an empty table, he sat down and forced himself to eat, his injured right hand struggling to hold on to his fork.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Matty and Bloodhound approach him.  He gripped his fork, grimacing slightly as he felt his damaged knuckles split open but he ignored the pain.  Keeping his expression tranquil, he continued to eat, unwilling to show fear in front of a room full of youths.

Matty and Bloodhound sat down opposite Tom and stared at him with unbridled loathing.  A guard walked past and neither boy spoke until he was out of earshot.  “How you feeling Tommy?” Bloodhound snorted, as he reached out and attempted to stroke Tom’s battered face.

Hanson instinctively jerked away, the grip on his fork tightening.  “Never better,” he muttered as he boldly made eye contact with his attackers.  “I had worse beatings in kindergarten.”

Matty Richardson’s expression darkened as his hand darted forward and grasped Tom’s wrist, squeezing it tightly.  “You need to learn to keep that smart mouth of yours shut McQuaid.”

In a flash, Tom jammed his fork deep into the tender flesh between Matty’s thumb and forefinger.  As the teenager yelped in pain, Tom yanked his hand out of Richardson’s grasp and stood up.  “And you need to learn that you’re messing with the wrong guy,” he murmured before picking up his tray and walking away as adrenaline coursed through his body.  He had probably made a mistake in challenging Matty again but he was fast running out of options.  He could sit back and take the beatings or he could assert himself as someone not to be messed with.  It was a dangerous game as he knew he was at risk of alienating himself from everyone on the block and in doing so, he would never find out who had administered the lethal dose of heroin to Ricky Green. However, if he could gain the respect of his fellow inmates, it would make it much easier to find out how the drugs were getting into Riverbend.  He had to keep a clear head and remember that he had an objective and the sooner he solved the case, the sooner he could leave _The Dead Zone_.

**

Lights out came at nine o’clock and for the first time since he had found himself alone in the detention center, Tom managed to relax.  He lay on his bunk, churning the day’s events over in his mind.  He was starting to second-guess his judgment, not sure that he was handling the case in the best way possible.  He wanted nothing more than to be able to discuss it with his superior officer but he had no means of doing so.  Even if he managed to make a phone call, he could not talk about his predicament with dozens of ears listening in.  Sighing deeply, he rolled carefully onto his side and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come quickly so he could escape his current situation for a few hours.

At the sound of his door slowly opening, Tom awoke from a light slumber.  He had no time to react before he found himself dragged from his bunk by several pairs of hands.  He groaned loudly as his attackers bent his battered body over the side of the sink and held him firmly down, his head twisted around to face his bed.  Something sharp jabbed at his neck and he started to struggle, fearing that he was about to meet the same fate as Ricky Green.  

Matty’s face came into view as he squatted down beside Tom.  He wore a sadistic smile as he tenderly touched Tom’s face.  “So Tommy, it looks like you’re a slow learner.  You’d better listen to what I’m gonna say and if you struggle, Bloodhound’s gonna shove that shiv deep into your neck, understand?”

“Yes,” Tom managed to grunt, unable to keep the fear out of his eyes.

“Good boy,” Matty murmured as his fingers continued to stroke Tom’s battered face.  “You’re such a pretty little thing, just like Ricky was.  I miss Ricky and we had _a lot_ of fun together.  But he became hard work, you know what I mean?  So I’m telling you now Tommy, this is the way it’s gonna be.  You are gonna be my bitch.  You’ve been in juvy before, you know how it works and if any of my boys feel the _urge_ too, well I have no problem with that.  The more the merrier I say.”

Tom’s eyes widened with terror.  He knew _exactly_ what Matty meant and he needed to think fast otherwise his life was about to change forever.  Swallowing deeply, he attempted to smile, hoping against hope that he could reason with the disturbed teen.  “Matty man, you don’t have to do this,” he said in a soft voice.  “You’ve proved you’re in charge, I’ll follow what you say okay?”

“Oh you’ll do what I say Tommy,” Matty murmured, his eyes black with arousal.  “Otherwise you’ll find yourself lying on the floor with a shiv sticking out of your neck.”  Richardson stood up and moved around behind Tom.  “Hold him firm,” he instructed.  “I don’t mind a bit of struggling but it takes the fun out of it if he’s movin’ around too much.”

Tom immediately started to fight back.  “NO!” he screamed when he felt unidentified hands pull down his boxers.  “Matty please don’t!  Oh God!  Please don’t!  Please!  Just STOP!”  He jumped when he the homemade knife stabbed against his throat.  

“Shh gorgeous boy,” Matty murmured in his ear.  “Just relax and enjoy the ride.”

“ _NOOO!”_ Tom shrieked, as he felt Matty’s erect cock pushing against his hole.  “ _STOP!_   DON’T!  OH GOD… _OH GOD!”_

The pain Tom felt was excruciating as Matty entered his body and pushed his erection past the tight ring of muscle. His attacker had not used any lubrication and tears spilled from Tom’s terrified eyes as his delicate anal tissue tore. A hand grabbed at his cock and began to tug as he continued to struggle and scream.

“Stop moving,” Matty growled as he slammed his cock deep into Tom’s hot body. As he continued to fondle and tug at Hanson’s limp cock, he murmured softly against his ear. “C’mon Tommy, I _know_ you’re enjoying it, show me how much you like the feel of my cock up your ass.”

“ _FUCK YOU!”_ Tom shouted hysterically.

Loud laughter resonated around the room and Bloodhound’s face came into Tom’s vision.  “Actually Tommy boy, I think Matty’s fucking _you!”_

Tom screwed his eyes shut, unable to do anything about the rape that Matty was perpetrating.  He could hear the other teens in the room cheering loudly as Matty pumped in and out of his resisting body.  Several minutes passed and Matty’s panting became louder as he neared his climax and with a loud cry, the teen forcefully ejaculated deep inside of Hanson.  

Withdrawing his cock, Matty tucked himself away before again squatting down beside Tom.  “Not bad gorgeous boy,” he laughed softly.  “Didn't expect you to be a virgin, not with that pretty face.  Bonus for me huh?”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Tom spat, his eyes blazing wildly as he continued to struggle against his captors.

“No you won’t gorgeous boy,” Matty whispered.  “Because if you do, you’ll _never_ get out of here and there’ll always be someone more than willing to take my place and make you _their_ bitch.”

Standing up, Matty nodded at his friends.  “Let him go, he can’t take us all on.”

Tom found himself released and he instantly dropped to the floor.  Matty and his gang quickly exited the room and closed the cell door softly behind them.  Once alone, Tom broke down completely as the reality of what had happened hit him.  Looking down he could see blood and semen covering his thighs and his stomach lurched.  He only just managed to crawl to the toilet before he violently vomited up his last meal.  He sat hugging the toilet bowl as his body shuddered and tears streamed down his beautiful face.  

The sound of his cell door opening had him spinning around in fear.  Morty the guard stood in the doorway, his face impassive.  “You need to take a shower,” he muttered coldly.

Staring back in disbelief, Tom felt as though he was in a dream.  “Help me,” he whispered. “He raped me, oh God he _raped_ me!”

Stepping forward, Morty pulled Tom to his feet.  “You’ve got a lot to learn kid.  What happens in The Zone, stays in The Zone.  Now c’mon, you’ve gotta get cleaned up.”

Too dazed to fight, Hanson allowed the guard to escort him to the shower block.  He turned on the faucets and set the temperature to as hot as his skin could bear.  His mind screamed that he was washing away the evidence, something as a cop he knew was the wrong thing to do but at that point, he did not care.  All he wanted was to rid himself of the blood and semen that coated his legs.  As the scalding water cascaded over his abused body, he sobbed uncontrollably.  In a few short minutes his life had changed irrevocably and he did not know how or when the nightmare would end.  Until Adam Fuller gave the order to pull him out of Riverbend, he was at the mercy of Matty Richardson and those who answered to him.

There was no way out, he was like a fly caught in a spider’s web and until someone rescued him, The Zone had him trapped.  



	3. Moby Dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: The sound of his cell door opening had him spinning around in fear. Morty the guard stood in the doorway, his face impassive. “You need to take a shower,” he muttered coldly._
> 
> _Staring back in disbelief, Tom felt as though he was in a dream. “Help me,” he whispered. “He raped me, oh God he raped me!”_
> 
> _Stepping forward, Morty pulled Tom to his feet. “You’ve got a lot to learn kid. What happens in The Zone, stays in The Zone. Now c’mon, you’ve gotta get cleaned up.”_
> 
> _Too dazed to fight, Hanson allowed the guard to escort him to the shower block. He turned on the faucets and set the temperature to as hot as his skin could bear. His mind screamed that he was washing away the evidence, something as a cop he knew was the wrong thing to do but at that point, he did not care. All he wanted was to rid himself of the blood and semen that coated his legs. As the scalding water cascaded over his abused body, he sobbed uncontrollably. In a few short minutes his life had changed irrevocably and he did not know how or when the nightmare would end. Until Adam Fuller gave the order to pull him out of Riverbend, he was at the mercy of Matty Richardson and those who answered to him._
> 
> _There was no way out, he was like a fly caught in a spider’s web and until someone rescued him, The Zone had him trapped._

**Moby Dick**  

After returning to his cell, Tom waited to hear the soft click as Morty turned the key and locked him in.  He knew it meant nothing, _someone_ had unlocked his door so Matty and his flunkies could attack him.  He wondered if Matty had a key.  The teen seemed to wield a lot of power in The Zone, which was probably why he had been able to get away with murder.  Tom now knew that Richardson had murdered Ricky Green, the youth had pretty much admitted to it.  Not that it meant much, Hanson had no hard evidence and he still did not know how the drugs entered the secure facility.  

Dragging his mattress off the bed, Tom pushed it against the door and lay down, curling into the fetal position.  Tears once again spilled from his eyes as the memories of his rape played over in his mind.  He was a police officer and he had been sexual assaulted by a seventeen year old.  But Hanson knew he could not have revealed his identity, not even to try and save himself from the violation.  If anyone in Riverbend found out his profession, his life would immediately be in danger.  

Unable to sleep, Tom instead tried to devise a plan.  He needed to call Adam Fuller but as Matty controlled the phone privileges, he could not think how he could manage it.  He knew his Captain would know something was wrong the minute he spoke to him and hopefully, that would be enough for Fuller to act.  But try as he might, Tom could not come up with any ideas on how to gain access to the phone.  Morty spent most of his time sitting at the desk where the only phone on The Zone was located.  Unless he could get rid of Morty, he had no chance of making a call.

Once again, his mind returned to the rape.  He tried to push the memory away but it kept re-emerging.  His anus still throbbed and he knew he had suffered some tearing.  The rest of his body felt numb, his brain concentrating only on the pain in his lower regions.  Matty had not been gentle when tugging at his cock and Hanson’s only relief was that his body had not betrayed him.  The thought of Richardson trying to stimulate him made him feel just as sick as the rape did.  The teenager was obviously deranged and that made him even more dangerous.  Tom had no clue how he would be able to defend himself the next time it happened.  All he knew was that whatever transpired, his only goal was to survive it.  

**

Having lain awake all night, Tom slowly got to his feet and walked to the washbasin. He gazed into the dirty mirror and his pale, bruised reflection stared back at him. He lowered his eyes to the swelling around his knuckles and when he lifted his t-shirt, he saw dark bruising around his ribs. But it was the pain in his backside that overrode all other feelings. He had never felt a pain like it and in a sudden panic, he wondered how much damage had been done. Once again, his eyes filled with tears and his chest heaved painfully. He had never felt so vulnerable and alone.

The sound of a key in his door quickly pulled him back to the present.  He slowly backed away to the other side of the room even though he knew that it would not make a difference as there was nowhere to hide.  The door opened and Morty stood outside.  “Shower time McQuaid,” he instructed, seemingly oblivious to Tom’s battered appearance.

“I don’t want to shower today Morty,” Tom muttered. “I’m not feeling so good.”

Walking into the small cell, Morty gave Tom the once over.  “You look okay to me, now get moving.”

Grabbing his towel and toiletries, Hanson walked with his head down, not wanting to meet the amused gazes of his fellow inmates.  Entering the communal bathroom, he picked a shower closest to the door.  When he stripped off, he heard wolf whistles and obscene comments echoing around room.  _“Matty was right, that’s a fine piece of ass… Hey McQuaid, if you’re feelin’ lonely tonight I can come keep you company… Shame they messed up your pretty face…  Do you suck cock as well McQuaid?”_

Tom tried to block out the offensive remarks.  His hands shook as he turned on the faucets and stepped under the steaming water.  He jumped violently when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.  “Want me to wash your back,” Matty murmured from behind him.  Tom froze, unable to move away from Matty’s touch.  The teen’s fingers traveled downwards until they rested on Hanson’s buttocks.  “Sorry if I hurt you gorgeous boy,” Matty breathed against Tom’s neck.  “Like I said, I never figured you for a virgin.  I might have been gentler if I’d known.”

“Get your fucking hands off me,” Tom raged through clenched teeth.

Matty laughed softly.  “Don’t worry gorgeous, you’re safe… for now.  But I’ll be coming for you tonight, you can count on that.”

Giving Tom a gentle pat on the buttocks, Matty moved away.  Hanson realized he had stopped breathing and he pulled in huge gulps of air to steady his nerves.  He looked quickly around him and saw that Matty had gone to the other end of the shower block where many teenagers were clapping him on the back.  Once again, it struck Tom what a sick and twisted world juvenile detention was.  He remembered the conversation he had with Penhall their first night and he was certain that he now knew the answer.  Detention did not scare offenders straight, it scared them so much that they became immune to all the violence around them.   

**

Tom wriggled in his seat in an attempt to get comfortable.  Reggie Wilkes stood at the front of the class trying his best to enthrall his pupils with a reading from Edgar Allan Poe’s _The Raven._

_"…Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend! I shrieked, upstarting_  
 _Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!_  
 _Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!_  
 _Leave my loneliness unbroken!  Quit the bust above my door!_  
 _Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!_  
  _Quoth the Raven Nevermore._

_And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting,_  
 _On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door._  
 _And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,_  
 _And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor._  
 _And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor_  
 _Shall be lifted—nevermore!”_

Twenty-five pairs of eyes gazed back at Wilkes, their expressions revealing their boredom.  With a sigh, the teacher closed his book and walking behind his desk, he sat down.  Tom laid his head on his desk and closed his eyes.  He did not need to participate in any class discussions, he had read Poe back in high school.  Normally he would play the part of student quite happily and he especially enjoyed acting out as the disruptive Tom McQuaid.  However, this case was unlike any other he could remember and he had lost all motivation to act out.  Now his only focus was to get through each day without threat of attack. 

A loud clanging signaled the end of the lesson.  The scraping sound of chairs pushing backwards jangled Tom’s already rattled nerves and he remained seated until the last of the teenagers had left.  Carefully pushing himself up off his chair, he limped slowly towards the door when Reggie’s voice cut through the emptiness of the classroom. “Do you have a minute Tom?  I’d like to speak to you.”

Tom stopped and closing his eyes, he clenched his fists into tight balls.  He did not want to attract any unnecessary attention from the teacher.  He found Mr. Wilkes to be a kind and compassionate man who cared deeply about trying to give the teenagers confined within detention, a decent education.  Hanson knew that he could not cope with any form of empathy, his emotional state was too fragile and he was afraid he would break down completely if Wilkes showed him one ounce of kindness.  

Hanson knew what he had to do.  Digging deep, he pulled Tom McQuaid to the forefront and pushed Tommy Hanson into the background.  Turning around, he gave his teacher what he hoped was an impressive sneer.  “What?” he snapped. “I’ll miss lunch if you don’t hurry up.”

Unfazed, Reggie motioned towards a chair.  “Take a seat Tom, I won’t keep you long.”

Tom remained standing, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gave his teacher a hard stare.  “C’mon Reggie, I haven’t got all day.”

Wilkes smiled gently.  “Okay, I’ll get to the point.  It looks like you’ve been getting yourself into a bit of trouble.  Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

“Nope,” Tom replied bluntly.  “Can I go now?”

“In a minute,” Reggie replied calmly.  “I want to give you something first.”  Reaching down, he pulled a battered book out of his briefcase and laid it on his desk.  “Do you know what this is Tom?” he asked softly.

“A book?” Tom replied rudely, desperate for the meeting to be over.

Reggie laughed.  “It’s not just a book, it’s one of the greatest novels ever written.  It’s called Moby Dick, have you read it?”

“No,” Tom lied.

“It’s a book about a man who chases a whale,” Wilkes explained.

“So?” Tom replied, his voice sounding bored.  “Who cares?” 

“Actually, it's not the whale he's going after,” Reggie replied quietly. “He’s going after God.  See, Ahab, he’s the man’s man.  What he’s saying is I will not let you beat me, I will not let you make my life mean nothing.  The story is a tragedy, it’s telling you that you don’t have to get swallowed up by the whale, do you understand what I’m saying?”

Hanson knew _exactly_ what Reggie Wilkes was saying and his admiration for the teacher increased tenfold.  Wilkes was the one good thing in Riverbend and it was a modern day tragedy that none of his students realized it and embraced what he was trying to teach them.  Tom had to use all his willpower to fight back the tears that threatened to fall.  He dug his nails into his palms as he attempted to keep his façade intact.  “Are you saying you want me to read it?” he asked, pretending to be appalled.

“I can’t make you read it Tom, but I think if you give it a chance, you might enjoy it,” Wilkes answered him before lowering his voice slightly. “And maybe it will help you escape from everything you’re going through.”

Tom snatched the book off the desk.  “The McQuaids don’t need to escape from anything Reggie," he sneered. "But it’s a thick book, maybe I can smack someone over the head with it.”

Wilkes did not seem overly concerned.  He had been in the job long enough to be a good judge of character and even though Thomas McQuaid had a tough exterior, he did not think he would attack anyone unless provoked.  Staring at Tom’s battered face, his brow creased in concern. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me Tom?” he asked quietly.

Hanson stared back impassively.  “Nothing I can think of Reg,” he replied before turning on his heel and limping from the room.


	4. How Many More Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: “In a minute,” Reggie replied calmly. “I want to give you something first.” Reaching down, he pulled a battered book out of his briefcase and laid it on his desk. “Do you know what this is Tom?” he asked softly._
> 
> _“A book?” Tom replied rudely, desperate for the meeting to be over._
> 
> _Reggie laughed. “It’s not just a book, it’s one of the greatest novels ever written. It’s called Moby Dick, have you read it?”_
> 
> _“No,” Tom lied._
> 
> _“It’s a book about a man who chases a whale,” Wilkes explained._
> 
> _“So?” Tom replied, his voice sounding bored.  “Who cares?”_
> 
> _“Actually, it’s not the whale he’s going after,” Reggie replied quietly. “He’s going after God. See, Ahab, he’s the man’s man. What he’s saying is I will not let you beat me, I will not let you make my life mean nothing. The story is a tragedy, it’s telling you that you don’t have to get swallowed up by the whale, do you understand what I’m saying?”_
> 
> _Hanson knew exactly what Reggie Wilkes was saying and his admiration for the teacher increased tenfold.  Wilkes was the one good thing in Riverbend and it was a modern day tragedy that none of his students realized it and embraced what he was trying to teach them.  Tom had to use all his willpower to fight back the tears that threatened to fall.  He dug his nails into his palms as he attempted to keep his façade intact.  “Are you saying you want me to read it?” he asked, pretending to be appalled._
> 
> _“I can’t make you read it Tom, but I think if you give it a chance, you might enjoy it,” Wilkes answered him before lowering his voice slightly. “And maybe it will help you escape from everything you’re going through.”_
> 
> _Tom snatched the book off the desk. “The McQuaids don’t need to escape from anything Reggie,” he sneered. “But it’s a thick book, maybe I can smack someone over the head with it.”_
> 
> _Wilkes did not seem overly concerned.  He had been in the job long enough to be a good judge of character and even though Thomas McQuaid had a tough exterior, he did not think he would attack anyone unless provoked.  Staring at Tom’s battered face, his brow creased in concern. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me Tom?” he asked quietly._
> 
> _Hanson stared back impassively.  “Nothing I can think of Reg,” he replied before turning on his heal and limping from the room._

**How Many More Times?**

Sitting on the bathroom floor, Tom scrubbed halfheartedly at a toilet.  Matty had the power to assign work detail and he had taken great delight in giving Tom the unenviable task of cleaning out the toilet block.  Hanson did not really care, he wanted to be alone so he could think.  The day was almost over and he was worried about what would happen to him once the lights went out.  He was well aware that Matty would come for him and he did not think he could cope with another assault.  He had been bleeding consistently from his rear end and had resorted to layering toilet paper in his underwear so the blood did not seep through.  The shame and violation he felt was overwhelming and he had begun to pick nervously at the skin on his forearm.  The subtle pain gave him a momentary sensation of pleasure and it took his mind off the real pain his body was suffering.

Throwing down the toilet brush, he hauled his aching body to a standing position just as the evening bell sounded.  Eight o’clock was lockdown and as he entered the recreation room, he saw Matty finishing a game of pool with Bloodhound.  Before he could turn away, the teen blew him a kiss.  “See you tonight gorgeous boy,” Richardson called out as the room erupted into laughter.  Hanson’s face burned red and he hurried to his cell and slammed the door closed.  He immediately started to pace up and down the room in agitation, much as Doug had done on their first night of incarceration.  He was so caught up in his distress that he was not aware that he was again picking at his flesh until he looked down and saw his bloodied fingers and arm.  He quickly turned on the faucet and washed away the traces of blood.  As he stepped away to grab some toilet paper to press down onto his wounds, he spied his toothbrush and an idea slowly formed in his mind.  Picking it up, he sat down on the concrete floor and holding the brush part in his hand, he started to rub the handle against the cement.  He was not sure that he would ever resort to using a homemade shiv but at least he would have a weapon handy if his situation became too dire.  Every ten minutes he tested the sharpness against the skin of his arm, instantly feeling the combination of pleasure and pain as the plastic scraped across his flesh.  After an hour of scraping, the lights went out but Hanson continued his task until his arm grew weary.  The handle was not yet sharp enough to be an effective weapon but it was sharp enough to break the skin.  Standing up, Tom pulled off his boots and socks and unzipping his jeans he let the fabric fall to the floor before stepping away and kicking them to one side.  Sitting on his bed, he bent up his leg to reveal the soft flesh of his inner thigh.  Grasping the improvised tool in his damaged hand, he dug it into his flesh and scraped it downwards, opening up a narrow wound.  The pleasure center in his brain triggered and a flood of dopamine released into his body, causing him to shiver.  He stood up and placed the shiv back in the cup holding his toothpaste.  By all appearances, it still looked like a normal toothbrush.

Lying down on his bunk, he wondered if he should keep hold of the shiv and try to defend himself if Matty kept his promise and paid him a visit.  But he was terrified that if he started to attack the teen, he might not be able to stop and then it would be he who was up on a murder charge.  As a cop, he could not come to terms with taking the life of a teenager.  He had pledged an oath to never betray his badge, his integrity, his character or the public’s trust.  He had also sworn to hold himself accountable for his actions and as the son of a police officer, his father had taught him from an early age to respect the force and all that it stood for.  

Deciding that he could not risk using the shiv, Tom threw an arm over his eyes and waited.  Although tired, he could not relax enough to sleep.  Noises around The Zone slowly faded as the inmates fell asleep.  Hanson’s ears remained tuned to any sound that would alert him to Matty’s arrival.  He unconsciously picked at his arm as his stress levels increased.  After two hours, he heard footsteps and whispering outside his room.  He instantly sat up in bed, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at his cell door.  The sound of a key turning signaled the beginning of his nightmare.

“Hey gorgeous boy, did you miss me?” Matty whispered, his comment causing an eruption of giggling and snorting from his flunkies.

Tom remained silent, watching in horror as Richardson and five other youths entered his cell.  They closed the door softly behind them and surrounded Hanson’s bunk.

“Aw, c’mon Tommy.  Can’t you show me a little enthusiasm?” Matty teased, sitting down on the bunk and draping his arm around Tom’s trembling shoulders.

“Matty please,” Tom whispered, unable to keep the terror out of his voice.  “Don’t, okay?  I don’t think I can take it, not again.”

“Oh you’ll take it,” Matty replied in a hard voice. “And one day gorgeous boy, you’ll learn to like it.  But I’ll tell you what.  ‘Cause I’m a nice guy, I’ll use lube this time, make it a little easier on you.  Does that make you happy?”

When Tom did not answer, Matty pulled a shiv out of his pocket and placed it against the terrified officer’s throat.  “I’m giving you a choice McQuaid.  I fuck you _with_ lubrication or _without_ lubrication.  Either way, you’re gonna get fucked.  Now, if you don’t tell me which one you prefer, _I’ll_ make the decision and trust me, you won’t like the outcome.”

No longer able to control his emotions, tears filled Tom’s brown eyes at the hopelessness of the situation.  “W-with,” he stammered quietly.  

Matty nodded at Bloodhound and the lanky youth silently left the room, returning minutes later with a bottle of lotion.  

Squeezing Tom’s shoulders in a pseudo loving gesture, Matty pulled Tom off the bed.  Hanson’s survival instinct immediately kicked in and he started to struggle.  The sharp point of the shiv pressed against his neck and he stopped, fearing injury.  “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Matty growled into Tom’s ear.  

Hanson stopped moving and allowed Richardson to maneuver him over to the hand basin, where strong hands bent him over and held him firm.  He screwed his eyes shut as Matty pulled down his boxers and touched his opening.  “Aw baby, did I make you bleed?” the teen murmured.  

Tom’s face reddened and tears of humiliation slid down his cheeks as the room exploded into laughter. As Matty rubbed the lotion against his hole and Hanson instantly felt a burning sensation as the cream seeped into his damaged anus. He flinched when Matty roughly inserted and removed a finger several times, opening him up. He could hear the sound of raspy breathing renting the room and the air hung heavy with arousal. Soft murmurs spurred Matty on as he unzipped his jeans and released his fully erect cock. Leaning forward, he whispered lovingly in Tom’s ear. “Ready gorgeous?” 

When Tom did not answer, Bloodhound twisted his fingers backwards, causing the cop to yelp in pain.  “Matty asked you a question maggot,” the youth spat angrily.  “Show some respect!”

“Yesss!” Tom hissed as he started to sob. “Oh God, why won’t somebody help me!”

“Sorry McQuaid, God ain’t listening,” Matty laughed and he pushed his throbbing cock deep inside Tom’s body.  He let out a loud groan as he slowly started to rock his hips backwards and forwards.  “Fuck Tommy, you’re one tight little bitch.”

The pain was just as intense as it had been the night before and a callused hand quickly muffled Tom’s distressed cries.  Matty once again reached down and started fondling Hanson’s cock.  “C’mon gorgeous, don’t you wanna come?” he whispered hoarsely as he increased his pace.  “Come for me Tommy, come for me.”

_“Nooo!”_ Tom screamed against Bloodhound’s palm.

Matty’s grunting intensified as he slammed his cock deep inside Hanson’s damaged body.  “Hell yeah!” he cried in delight, his orgasm rising.  “Take that you little bitch!  Oh fuck… oh fuck… _Fuuuck!”_

Tom could feel Matty’s hot semen shooting into his body and he shuddered with revulsion.  As his attacker pulled out and Bloodhound removed his hand, he felt a surge of relief that he had survived another assault but his reprieve was short lived when a husky voice sounded from the corner of the room.  “I want a go Matty.”

“NO!” Tom screamed hysterically, beginning to thrash wildly in an attempt to break free from those still holding him down.  “No more!  Oh God Matty, please!  _No more!”_

Richardson squatted down so he could make eye contact with Hanson.  “Sorry gorgeous, but if Stevie wants to take you for a ride, who am I to stop him.”

_“Please!”_ Hanson sobbed uncontrollably.  “I can’t take it, _I can’t!”_

“C’mon McQuaid, man up!” Matty laughed as he slapped Tom’s cheek.  

Bloodhound slammed his hand back over Tom’s mouth before he could reply.  Hanson continued to scream as Stevie took Matty's place.  The assault lasted only a few minutes but someone else quickly replaced Stevie and so it went on until everyone except Bloodhound had taken their turn.  When the rapes were finally over, the restraining hands released Tom and threw him onto the hard, concrete floor.  Matty stared down at him with narrow, uncaring eyes.  “Morty will be here soon to take you for a shower.  We can’t have any evidence, can we?” he taunted callously.  When Hanson continued to sob, Matty gave his victim what he considered a compassionate look.  “You know what gorgeous boy?  If you just tried to enjoy it you wouldn’t find it so bad.”

_“Go to hell!”_ Tom spat, his breath hitching in his throat.

Matty threw back his head and laughed loudly.  “Oh Tommy!  Don’t you get it?  We’re already there!”  



	5. Dazed and Confused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Tom could feel Matty’s hot semen shooting into his body and he shuddered with revulsion.  As his attacker pulled out and Bloodhound removed his hand, he felt a surge of relief that he had survived another assault but his reprieve was short lived when a husky voice sounded from the corner of the room.  “I want a go Matty.”_
> 
> _“NO!” Tom screamed hysterically, beginning to thrash wildly in an attempt to break free from those still holding him down.  “No more!  Oh God Matty, please!  No more!”_
> 
> _Richardson squatted down so he could make eye contact with Hanson.  “Sorry gorgeous, but if Stevie wants to take you for a ride, who am I to stop him.”_
> 
> _“Please!” Hanson sobbed uncontrollably.  “I can’t take it, I can’t!”_
> 
> _“C’mon McQuaid, man up!” Matty laughed as he slapped Tom’s cheek._
> 
> _Bloodhound slammed his hand back over Tom’s mouth before he could reply.  Hanson continued to scream as Stevie took Matty’s place.  The assault lasted only a few minutes but someone else quickly replaced Stevie and so it went on until everyone except Bloodhound had taken their turn.  When the rapes were finally over, the restraining hands released Tom and threw him onto the hard, concrete floor.  Matty stared down at him with narrow, uncaring eyes.  “Morty will be here soon to take you for a shower.  We can’t have any evidence, can we?” he taunted callously.  When Hanson continued to sob, Matty gave his victim what he considered a compassionate look.  “You know what gorgeous boy?  If you just tried to enjoy it you wouldn’t find it so bad.”_
> 
> _“Go to hell!” Tom spat, his breath hitching in his throat._
> 
> _Matty threw back his head and laughed loudly.  “Oh Tommy!  Don’t you get it?  We’re already there!”_

**Dazed and Confused**  

A week passed and Matty and his friends continued to visit Hanson every night after lights out.  Richardson’s true sadistic side emerged when he noticed the cuts and scabs on Tom’s forearms.  He found the fact that Tom was self-harming incredibly amusing and so he decided to add to the scars by having Bloodhound burn Hanson with cigarettes whilst he was raping him.  Over time, Tom had become eerily silent during the rapes, even when a lit cigarette sizzled against his skin.  It was obvious to those on The Zone that the assaults had taken their toll on him and he walked around in a permanent daze, seemingly unaware of his surroundings.  He only left his room for mandatory schooling and although Reggie Wilkes had tried his best to intervene by reporting Tom’s fragile state to the facility director, no one stepped in and stopped Matty and his boys from visiting Hanson and sexually assaulting him.

Hanson knew he was slipping into a deep depression but he could not rise above it.  He felt betrayed by his superiors, unable to understand why no one had contacted him when he had failed to report in.  His unbalanced mind even started to believe that he deserved the rapes as punishment for sending hundreds of young boys to juvenile detention during his time at Jump Street.  As his grandmother used to say, _it was his just desserts._   After making the homemade shiv, he now only used it to methodically carve away at his own flesh.  The only time he felt in control was when the sharp plastic cut into his skin.  His arms were a mess, covered in angry red scars and so he had started inflicting wounds on the tender flesh of his inner thighs.  He wondered how many other inmates resorted to self-mutilation as a way of feeling in control in a place that stripped you of any power.

Unless of course, you were Matty Richardson.  He wielded all the power on The Zone and took great delight in making sure everyone knew it.

**

Sitting in his cell staring blankly at the open pages of Moby Dick, Tom did not hear Morty enter.  “Look lively McQuaid, you’ve got a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Tom echoed, his mind so muddled that there were days he barely remembered that he was an undercover police officer.  “Who is it?”

“Social worker,” Morty replied.  “You’ve only got ten minutes so you’d better hurry up.”

Hanson stared back in confusion.  _"Do I have a social worker?"_ he wondered and then slowly realization dawned.  Of course he did not have a social worker; he was a cop not an inmate.  That meant that his visitor was someone from the department.  Hurrying to his feet, he quickly pulled on a worn sweatshirt to cover his damaged arms.  “Let’s go,” he responded eagerly but before he could walk out the door, Morty twisted his arm painfully behind his back.

“Just a word of warning McQuaid, you keep your mouth shut about what goes on here, understood?” Morty snarled.  “Otherwise, things might get a whole lot worse for you.”

The adrenaline that had begun to course through Tom’s body slowly subsided and he shrank away from the guard.  Even if it were Fuller on the other side of the visitor’s desk, that did not mean that he would be instantly released.  It would take his Captain at least twenty-four hours before he would be able to organize a mock transfer to another facility, which meant he still had one more night to endure inside The Zone. Managing a weak smile, he nodded his head.  “I won’t say a word Morty, I promise.”

“You’d better not.  Just remember, I’ll be listening,” the guard warned.

Tom followed Morty down a long corridor and into a large area with a long trestle table separating the room into two halves.  He saw Captain Fuller sitting on the opposite side at the far end of the table, his commanding officer’s only disguise being a pair of large rimmed glasses.  Hanson thought he would feel elation at seeing his friend and colleague but he felt dead inside.  Taking his time, he walked the short distance and sat down, not bothering to meet his superior’s worried stare.

“Are you okay?” Fuller asked, abundantly aware that Morty was standing only a few feet away and listening closely to their conversation.

“Sure,” Tom muttered, still refusing to meet Adam’s eyes.

“You don’t look it Tom,” Fuller pushed, before he leaned in close. “I’m pulling you out.”

“No whispering!” Morty instructed in a loud voice.  “That’s your first warning.  One more and you’re out.”

When Tom made no response to his declaration, Fuller became concerned.  “Did you hear what I said Tom?” he asked, keeping his voice at a normal level so as not to raise any more suspicion.

“Sure,” Tom repeated in a voice lacking any emotion.

Fuller rubbed anxiously at his top lip.  “Your transfer should be through by tomorrow, I’ll speak to you when you arrive, do you understand?”

When Hanson once again replied _“Sure,”_ without looking up, Fuller started to panic.  He felt responsible for having left Tom alone in the facility for so long even though the decision had been out of his control.  Because Captain McCormick had been in command when the officers entered Riverbend, only he could sign the order to pull Hanson out.  He had arrogantly refused Fuller’s many requests to close the case because it was too dangerous for Tom to be in Riverbend without backup.  It was only when Adam had taken his demands to a higher power that the Captain had reluctantly agreed to Fuller visiting Hanson, promising that if Adam reported that Tom was in danger, he would sign the order and pull him out.

Staring across at his young officer, Fuller's only hope was that they had not left it too late.

**

When his cell door opened, Tom got slowly to his feet and faced Matty and his friends.  “I hear you’re leaving gorgeous boy,” Matty murmured softly as he trailed a finger down Tom’s pale face.  “I’m _really_ gonna miss you Tommy, so let’s make tonight special, okay?”

Tom’s mind was too numb to care anymore and he nodded obediently.

“Good boy,” Matty whispered and reaching down, he began to fondle Tom’s cock through the thin cotton of his boxers.  “Maybe this time I can get you to come.”

Closing his eyes, Tom allowed Matty to stroke and tug at his cock and slowly he became hard.  “There we go,” Richardson murmured softly, as he leaned forward and licked Hanson’s neck.  “I knew I could get you to enjoy it.  Now, I’ve been thinking, maybe we can spice things up a bit, whatcha say?”

Staring off into space, Tom nodded again.

“Excellent,” Matty laughed quietly, quickly removing his jeans and boxers.  “Kneel down, there’s a good boy.”

Hanson did as Richardson asked, his compliance causing ripples of laughter from around the room.  Reaching out, Matty gently stroked Tom’s hair.  “Now gorgeous boy, I want you to suck my cock with that pretty mouth of yours and if you even think about biting down, you’ll be dead within seconds.  Understood?”

Again, Tom’s only response that he had heard Richardson’s question was a small nod of the head.

“Okay gorgeous, let’s see your technique,” Matty muttered, his voice heavy with arousal.  

As though in a trance, Hanson wrapped his lips around Matty’s engorged head and began to suck.  He did not hear the cheering behind him or Matty’s delighted cries.  He momentarily came back to reality when his abuser started forcefully fucking his mouth and he could not help but start to choke.  Struggling to pull away, Matty held his head firm for another few seconds before releasing him.  “You need to work on your gag reflex Tommy, but other than that, not bad for a first time.  Now stand up, I wanna get to the main event.”

Getting to his feet, Tom stood silently, his eyes once again vacant.  Putting his hands on Hanson’s waist, Matty gently maneuvered the officer until he was sitting on the edge of the lower bunk.  “Lie back gorgeous, this time we’re gonna do it right.”

Staring back with dead eyes, Tom did as Matty asked.  Richardson removed Tom’s boxers and gently stroked a finger down the angry red wounds on his thighs.  “Tsk, tsk, Tommy.  You really shouldn’t be carving up your pretty body.”

Hanson did not reply and Matty laughed lightly.  “I don’t know if I like it more when you scream or when you’re silent,” he teased before turning towards his audience.  “What do you think boys?”

“I like it when he screams,” Stevie Lomman replied, licking his lips in anticipation of what was to come.

“Hmm,” Matty pondered as he rubbed lotion onto his fingers and his erect cock.  “But it’s Tommy’s last night, maybe we should be nice to him.”

“Or maybe we should give him a night to remember,” Stevie growled impatiently.

“Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” Matty replied as he pushed his finger into Tom’s entrance.  “Everyone gets a turn and you can make your own minds up whether you want to treat him nasty or nice.”

The five boys murmured their approval.  Matty bent up Tom’s knees and spread open his legs.  “I’m gonna be nice to you gorgeous boy,” he whispered as he climbed into position and pushed his cock into Tom.  “But I wanna see you come.”

Once again, Tom nodded, too lost in his own depression to care what happened.  As Matty slowly pushed in and out of Hanson’s body, he played with Tom’s cock, bringing it to life.  He grinned when he saw pre-cum weeping from the engorged head.  “That’s it gorgeous,” he whispered hoarsely, the sight making him fuck Tom harder. “Come for me.”

As Matty pounded his cock deep inside him, Tom stared blankly at the wall.  When his orgasm hit he did not cry out and he felt no pleasure.  He could hear Matty grunting loudly before crying out as he too reached his climax.   When Stevie climbed on top of him, Tom barely acknowledged the cigarette burning against his inner arm and when the last boy climbed off him he was in a catatonic state, not seeing or hearing anything around him.

“Aw come on Tommy, don’t you wanna say goodbye?” Matty asked as he slapped Hanson around the face.  When he received no response, he turned to his friends and laughed.  “Shit, I think we broke him.”  



	6. Hey, Hey, What Can I Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ****  
> _Lyrics from "Space Oddity" by David Bowie_   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: “Hmm,” Matty pondered as he rubbed lotion onto his fingers and his erect cock.  “But it’s Tommy’s last night, maybe we should be nice to him.”_
> 
> _“Or maybe we should give him a night to remember,” Stevie growled impatiently._
> 
> _“Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” Matty replied as he pushed his finger into Tom’s entrance.  “Everyone gets a turn and you can make your own minds up whether you want to treat him nasty or nice.”_
> 
> _The five boys murmured their approval.  Matty bent up Tom’s knees and spread open his legs.  “I’m gonna be nice to you gorgeous boy,” he whispered as he climbed into position and pushed his cock into Tom.  “But I wanna see you come.”_
> 
> _Once again, Tom nodded, too lost in his own depression to care what happened.  As Matty slowly pushed in and out of Hanson’s body, he played with Tom’s cock, bringing it to life.  He grinned when he saw pre-cum weeping from the engorged head.  “That’s it gorgeous,” he whispered hoarsely, the sight making him fuck Tom harder.  “Come for me.”_
> 
> _As Matty pounded his cock deep inside him, Tom stared blankly at the wall.  When his orgasm hit he did not cry out and he felt no pleasure.  He could hear Matty grunting loudly before crying out as he too reached his climax.   When Stevie climbed on top of him, Tom barely acknowledged the cigarette burning against his inner arm and when the last boy climbed off him he was in a catatonic state, not seeing or hearing anything around him._
> 
> _“Aw come on Tommy, don’t you wanna say goodbye?” Matty asked as he slapped Hanson around the face.  When he received no response, he turned to his friends and laughed.  “Shit, I think we broke him.”_

[**Hey, Hey, What Can I Do**](viewstory.php?sid=54877&chapter=6) 

The juvenile corrections van wound slowly through the inner city streets before pulling up outside the Cavan Center for Boys.  Tom sat silently in the back, his hands handcuffed in front of him.  An undercover police officer posing as a guard sat next to him but did not engage him in conversation.  When the back of the van opened, Captain Fuller and Doug Penhall were standing outside.  The officer removed Hanson’s handcuffs before he climbed slowly out of the vehicle and into the bright sunlight.  Penhall immediately stepped forward and attempted to pull his partner into a hug but Tom side stepped away.  Hurt, Doug stared at his best friend.  “Are you okay Tommy?  You look like shit.”

_“Do I?”_ Tom asked sarcastically. “Jeez Penhall, I wonder why that is.”

“Okay fellas, let’s not get into it here,” Captain Fuller intervened quickly, sensing that Tom might have a few choice words to say to Penhall for leaving him in the center.  “There’s plenty of time for Q and A back when we get back to The Chapel.”

“I want to go home,” Hanson mumbled, unable to meet his superior officer’s gaze.

“Sorry Hanson, unless you need to go to the hospital you know the drill,” Fuller replied in a commanding tone.  His voice softened when he took in Tom’s disheveled appearance.  “ _Do_ you need to go to the hospital?” he asked quietly.  Tom silently shook his head and turning away, he walked to the waiting patrol car and climbing in, he slammed the door closed. 

Penhall turned a worried face towards his Captain.  “Do you think he’s all right?” he asked, his eyes wide with concern.

Fuller sighed heavily.  “I don’t know Penhall, we all know how rough those centers can be.  I’ll organize a doctor to give him the once over and maybe a psych report too.  We need to make sure he is mentally strong enough to come back to work.”

“But he’ll be okay, right?” Doug pushed, needing his superior to put his mind at rest.

“In time,” Adam replied quietly.  “You just need to be patient Penhall.”

Doug did not reply.  Patience was not his virtue and the thought of what Tom might have gone through tore at his heart.  Hanson was his best friend and he had left him there to suffer God only knew what kind of horrors.  Raking his fingers frantically through his hair, he turned and followed Fuller to the car.

**

Hanson sat at his desk inside The Chapel typing out his report.  He wanted nothing more than to go home, close his eyes and never wake up but there was protocol to follow and until he had documented his time within Riverbend, he would not be able to leave.  Fuller had spoken to him briefly behind closed doors but he had been monosyllabic with his answers and sensing that his young officer was in need of some rest before their debriefing, Adam had granted him two weeks leave.  In the hours since he had left Riverbend, Tom’s mind had started to clear and he no longer felt the confusion he had been living with for the past week.  It was as though a switch had clicked in his brain and the fog had cleared, slowly replacing his catatonic depression with feelings of immense anger and resentment towards his fellow officers.  He could not understand why he they had left him alone in the juvenile facility without checking on his welfare.  

Tom’s hand paused over the keys of the manual typewriter.  He had already made his mind up that he would not disclose everything that had happened to him at the juvenile facility.  He would report the beatings but not the rapes.  He had invented a story as to how he had obtained the information about Matty Richardson murdering Ricky Green.  He still did not know how the drugs came in to Riverbend but now that the authorities knew that Matty was receiving them, it would not take them long to find the courier.  

So lost in fabricating his story, Tom did not see his fellow officer Judy Hoffs, approach his desk.

“Hey Hanson, good to have you back,” the pretty officer welcomed him warmly.  “It can’t have been much fun in there on your own.”

Tom’s eyes glared at her angrily.  “Gee Jude, how fucking insightful.  You’ll definitely make detective some day.”

Surprised at Tom’s harsh words, tears filled Judy’s dark eyes.  “You don’t have to be mean Hanson, I just came over to see if you were okay.”

_“DO I FUCKING LOOK OKAY?”_ Tom yelled so ferociously that Hoffs took a step back.  

Penhall and Harry Ioki immediately came running over.  “Whoa Tom, you need to back off,” Harry warned, putting a comforting arm around Judy’s shoulder.  “We all know it wasn’t easy for you but—”

“What the _fuck_ would you know about it?” Tom snarled.  “You only spent two fucking days in there.”

Penhall stepped forward and attempted to placate his friend.  “We know it was tough on you Tommy but we’re all here for you, whatever you need.”

Tom gave a hollow laugh.  “You’re kidding me right?  _You’re_ my partner and you fucking left me you _son-of-a-bitch!_   I’ll never fucking forgive you for what you did, _NEVER!”_

Doug stared back, his expression stunned.  Hanson had never spoken to him so vehemently before.  Guilt caused him to become defensive and placing his hands on Tom’s desk, he leaned forward menacingly.  “I’ll let that go on account that you’ve had a rough week,” he muttered. “But if you _ever_ speak to me that way again, I’ll knock your fucking head off.”

“You do that,” Tom murmured quietly. “What that fuck do I care.” Standing up, he pushed past his colleagues.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dennis Booker leaning against his desk, calmly chewing on a toothpick.  “You got something to say?” he growled at him.

“Nope,” Dennis replied serenely.  As Hanson walked past him and out the door, Dennis’ gaze followed him and his smooth brow creased into a frown.

**

Alone in his apartment, Tom took a long swig of whiskey.  He had drunk over half the bottle but he still could not reach the numbing state of mind he was desperately searching for.  Picking the razor blade off the coffee table, he again scraped it across his upper arm.  Blood immediately seeped to the surface and he felt a rush of pleasure run through his tired body.  Grabbing the bottle of Jacks, he swallowed several more mouthfuls and stared blankly at the television.  Since storming out of The Chapel that afternoon, he had half expected someone to check on him.  He knew his behavior was out of character and he thought that would raise alarm bells with his colleagues.  But no one had called him and Tom felt himself slipping back into a fog of depression.  He was well aware that his conduct had been appalling and that he had hurt his friends with his outburst, but now that he was free from the sexual, physical and emotional abuse, he did not know how to ask his friends for help.  His freedom had him feeling more alone than he had felt when he was in Riverbend and the hopelessness of his situation overwhelmed him.

Taking another swig of whiskey, he again trailed the razor blade over his arm, his vision blurring as tears filled his eyes.  He swiped them away and watched as the blood bubbled to the surface.  He traced a finger through the red liquid, smearing it over his forearm.  Something in his mind told him that if he could still bleed he could still feel, but he felt dead inside, as though he was just a brittle shell, completely empty within.

A loud knocking at his door made him jump.  He sat listening, wanting it to be Penhall but not certain he could face his best friend in his current state of mind.  When another series of raps sounded, Tom stood up and walked slowly over to the door, just as a loud voice called out. “I know you’re in there Hanson, I can hear the TV.”

Tom stared at the door in surprise, the last person he had expected was Dennis Booker.  Since joining the Jump Street program six months earlier, Booker had not exactly endeared himself to his fellow colleagues and especially not to Hanson.  Their first case together had come close to being a complete disaster and Tom had trouble trusting Booker, especially because the officer had originally come to The Chapel as an informant for Internal Affairs.  Hanson found Dennis to be both cocky and arrogant, two traits he despised and he purposely kept his distance from the newest recruit.  Normally he would have no trouble telling Dennis to fuck off but now that he was standing outside his door, Tom was at a loss for words.  Backing slowly away, he decided to pretend he was not home.

A third round of knocking shook the door.  “Open up Hanson,” Booker yelled. “If you don’t, I’ll start singing _really_ loud and I don’t think your neighbors are gonna like it.”

Tom put his hands over his ears and closed his eyes. “Go away,” he whispered. “Go away, go away, go awa—”

The sound of Booker singing cut him off.

“Ground Control to Major Tom  
Your circuit’s dead, there’s something wrong  
Can you hear me, Major Tom?  
Can you hear me, Major Tom?  
Can you hear me, Major Tom?  
Can you hear—”

“SHUT UP!” Tom screamed hysterically. “JUST LEAVE ME _ALONE!”_

There was silence on the other side of the door for several moments and then Booker spoke in a soft voice. “I’m sorry Tommy, please open the door, you’re starting to freak me out.”

Hanson waited several minutes before unlatching the lock and opening the door just a crack.  “What do you want?” he asked coldly. “I don’t feel like visitors.”

Dennis’ black eyes took in Tom’s pale, tear-stained face and he suddenly wondered what he was getting himself into.  He had come to check on Hanson, thinking that he might need someone to talk to but he had not expected to find Tom so clearly distressed.  It was obvious to Booker that Hanson was falling apart and he was not sure that he was the right person to help Tom, given their history together.  But Booker was not one to back down from a challenge and he knew he could not just walk away and leave Hanson in the state he was in.  He took a deep breath before replying. “I brought pizza, I thought maybe you and I could spend some time together.”

“Why would I do that?” Hanson asked bluntly.  “I don’t like you.”

Booker gave Hanson a smile and his whole appearance changed.  A look of genuine concern replaced his usual self-important sneer.  “You don’t really know me Hanson,” he replied softly. “But I’m worried about you, I think you could use a friend.”

Tom was unable to meet Dennis’ gaze. “I’m fine,” he mumbled.

“No Hanson, you’re not,” Booker murmured quietly. “So why don’t you let me in so we can talk.”

With a reluctant sigh, Tom opened the door.  He quickly pulled down the sleeve of his sweatshirt to hide his damaged arm.  “Ten minutes okay?  Then I want you gone.”

Dennis glanced quickly around the apartment before sitting down on the couch and placing the pizza box on the coffee table.  He spied the razor blade before Hanson quickly picked it up and disappeared into his bedroom.

Returning several moments later, Tom sat down next to his visitor.  “I’d offer you a drink,” he muttered as he reached out and picked up the bottle. “But this is all I’ve got so…”

Booker gasped as Tom lifted the bottle and took several gulps before placing it back on the table. The movement had pushed up Hanson’s shirtsleeve, revealing the cigarette burns and cuts on his forearm. Dennis did not know if Tom had caused the injuries himself or if someone had done it to him. Either way, it was a shocking thing to witness and his mind went into overdrive as he tried to think what to say.

Tom’s irritable voice pulled him out of his thoughts.  “If you’ve got nothing to say you might as well leave.”

Dennis decided on the direct approach.  “What happened to your arm?” 

“Nothing,” Hanson replied quickly as he pulled down his sleeve.

Booker gave Tom a hard stare.  “Don’t bullshit me Hanson.  Did you run out of ashtrays and decide to stub the butts out on your arm?  And I saw the fucking razor blade.  Jesus man, what the hell is going on?”

Hanson’s face reddened.  “Nothing.  It’s nothing,” he replied sullenly.

Catching Tom off guard, Booker darted his hand out and gripped hold of the young officer’s arm.  “If it’s nothing, then show me.”

Hanson struggled to get out of Dennis’ grasp but his fellow officer was too strong.  “LET _GO!”_ he yelled frantically as he fought to pull away.  “Fucking let me _GO!”_

Keeping a firm grasp on Tom's wrist, Booker slowly rolled up his sleeve.  “Jesus Christ Tommy, what the hell happened?” Dennis cried out in shock.  

Seeing the look of horror and disgust on Dennis’ face broke down the final barrier of Tom’s defenses.  With a loud sob, he covered his face with his arm and wept uncontrollably.  Booker immediately pulled the distressed officer to his chest and wrapped his strong arms protectively around him. “Shh,” he soothed softly as Tom struggled to pull away. “It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.”  

Hanson eventually stopped fighting and he cried hysterically as Dennis slowly rocked him back and forth in his arms.  “I’m here for you Hanson,” Booker murmured. “Whatever you need, okay?”

Tom's voice was muffled against Dennis’ chest. “I don’t know what to do,” he sobbed. “Oh God Booker, I don’t know what to _do!”_

“You’re not alone Tommy, whatever it is, I’m gonna help you through it, every step of the way,” Booker muttered softly as he stroked Hanson’s hair.  Gently lifting Tom's face so he could look into his eyes, he continued to speak in a quiet voice. “But if I’m gonna help you, I need you to tell me what happened.  Do you think you can do that?”

Staring back, Tom’s bottom lip quivered and fresh tears spilled from his eyes.  “I let them do it Booker,” he muttered in a barely audible voice.  “Oh God, why did I let them _do it?”_

“Do what Tommy?” Booker pushed gently, suddenly fearing the worst.

“Rape me,” Tom whispered, his wide eyes pleading with Dennis for help.  “Oh God Dennis!  They _raped_ me!”

Booker felt vomit rise in his throat but he swallowed it back down and pulling Hanson into his arms, he held him close.  When he had come over to the apartment, Dennis had never expected that he would find himself totally embroiled in Tom’s emotional nightmare.  Since first meeting Hanson, Booker had found him incredibly attractive and over time, he had developed strong feelings for the pretty officer.  However, homophobia was widespread within the force, so he had kept his bisexual lifestyle to himself, unsure how his colleagues would react.  He realized now that he had to tread very carefully and not let his feelings for Tom impair his judgment.  Hanson needed a friend to support him and Booker was prepared to do whatever it took, to get him the help he required. “It’s okay Hanson,” he murmured softly whilst he continued to stroke Tom’s hair. “I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you, not ever, okay?”

Closing his eyes, Tom took comfort from the last man he would have ever expected to let into his life... Dennis Patrick Booker. 


	7. Heartbreaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Staring back, Tom’s bottom lip quivered and fresh tears spilled from his eyes.  “I let them do it Booker,” he muttered in a barely audible voice.  “Oh God, why did I let them do it?”_
> 
> _“Do what Tommy?” Booker pushed gently, suddenly fearing the worst._
> 
> _“Rape me,” Tom whispered, his wide eyes pleading with Dennis for help.  “Oh God Dennis!  They raped me!”_
> 
> _Booker felt vomit rise in his throat but he swallowed it back down and pulling Hanson into his arms, he held him close.  When he had come over to the apartment, Dennis had never expected that he would find himself totally embroiled in Tom’s emotional nightmare.  Since first meeting Hanson, Booker had found him incredibly attractive and over time, he had developed strong feelings for the pretty officer.  However, homophobia was widespread within the force, so he had kept his bisexual lifestyle to himself, unsure how his colleagues would react.  He realized now that he had to tread very carefully and not let his feelings for Tom impair his judgment.  Hanson needed a friend to support him and Booker was prepared to do whatever it took, to get him the help he required.   “It’s okay Hanson,” he murmured softly whilst he continued to stroke Tom’s hair.  “I’m here.  I won’t let anyone hurt you, not ever, okay?”_
> 
> _Closing his eyes, Tom took comfort from the last man he would have ever expected to let into his life… Dennis Patrick Booker._

**Heartbreaker**  

Booker thought back over the last few hours that had led him to be sitting on a hard plastic chair at the Evandale Hospital.  After his initial breakdown, Tom had withdrawn completely and had refused to give Dennis any details about the rapes.  Instead, he sat silently with his knees drawn up, staring blankly at the television as he rocked slowly back and forth.  Dennis had wanted to phone his Captain for advice but he did not want to betray Tom’s confidence and trust.  Instead, he had gently insisted that he take Tom to the hospital so a doctor could check him over.  For the first hour it was as though Hanson did not hear Dennis' gentle persuasions. But eventually he had turned his pale face towards Booker. “Okay,” he whispered.

Now Booker was sitting outside a curtained cubicle, waiting for Tom to be examined by a Doctor Hubert.  He knew they would take blood and test for diseases, including HIV.  As Tom had not given him any details, Dennis did not know if the rapists had used condoms but as they were in detention, it seemed highly unlikely.  As the time ticked by, he clenched and unclenched his fists as his anger mounted.  He found it incomprehensible that teenagers could perpetrate such a heinous act upon another human being.  At twenty-two, Booker was still young himself but try as he might, he could not get into the minds of the rapists and understand how they could commit such an act.  He felt sick to his stomach at the thought of Tom fighting against his attackers and he hoped that once Hanson had received some specialist counseling, he would be willing to name his rapists so they could be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.

Loud screaming pulled Dennis from his thoughts and he jumped to his feet when he realized it was Hanson.  _“DON’T TOUCH ME!  DON’T TOUCH ME!”_ Tom screamed, his voice rising in panic.

Moving quickly, Booker pulled back the curtain and gasped when he saw Tom on the floor, wearing only a white hospital gown and struggling violently as a male nurse held him down.  “Let him go!” Dennis yelled, pulling out his badge and flashing it at the startled doctor who was standing by the hospital bed.

The nurse continued to hold Tom firm.  “Who the hell are you?” he growled.

“I’m a police officer and Tom Hanson is my colleague.   So take your hands off him before I have you arrested for assault,” Booker replied angrily.

The nurse turned towards Doctor Hubert and when he received a small nod from his superior, he let go of Tom and stood up.  Dennis pushed roughly past him and dropping to his knees, he pulled Hanson into his arms and turned to face the doctor. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted. “Can’t you see he’s distraught?”

The doctor stared back nervously.  “I only tried to give him an internal exam but as soon as I touched him he went berserk.”

Sighing heavily, Booker tried to calm his temper.  “He’s been raped,” he replied through clenched teeth. “Of course he’s going to react when you touch him _there.”_

In an attempt to regain his authority, the doctor took a deep breath and puffed out his chest.  “Even so, he needs to be examined.  If need be, I’ll have Nurse Evans hold him down.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Booker snapped back before turning his attention to Tom.  Gently releasing his hold, he cupped Hanson’s frightened face in his hands.  “I’m here Tommy and I won’t let anyone hurt you.  But the doctor needs to examine you internally, just to make sure everything’s okay.  Do you understand?”

Tom stared back, his eyes wide with fear.  “I don’t want to be touched _down there,”_ he whispered.

Booker rubbed his fingers anxiously over his top lip.  He had to convince Hanson to have the examination and yet he could understand completely how the young officer felt.  With a sigh, he gently swept Tom’s long bangs out of his eyes.  “I know this is hard Hanson, but you need to let the doctor do his job.  You know better than anyone how important this is and the doctor might be able to extract some evidence that we can use.  But if you want me to, I’ll stay in here with you.”

Chewing nervously on his bottom lip, Tom eventually gave a small nod of consent. Climbing onto the bed, he turned to face Dennis. “Promise me you’ll stay,” he murmured, his eyes wide with fear.

Booker grabbed a chair and placing it next to the bed, he sat down next to his new friend.  Taking hold of Hanson’s hand, he gave it a squeeze.  “You just keep looking into my eyes Tommy and I promise you it will be over before you know it.”

Doctor Hubert immediately became business like.  “I want you to lie on your right side and pull your knees up to your chest,” he instructed.  When Tom was in position, he continued in a matter-of-fact voice. “I’m just going to insert a finger and have a feel around.  Take a deep breath…”

A single tear slid down Tom’s cheek as his body suffered yet another violation.  Staring into Dennis’ soft, dark eyes, Tom took comfort from the compassion he saw shining back at him.  For the first time in a week, he no longer felt completely alone.

**

Driving away from the hospital, Tom sat silently in the passenger seat.  He gazed out at the nighttime traffic as his mind played over the night’s events.  The doctor had confirmed that he had suffered anal tearing from the viciousness of the attacks, but he assured Tom that over time, it would heal.  He had shown no emotion when the doctor explained that he would have the results of the test for STDs within a few days but it would take several weeks before he would know if he had contracted HIV.  Not wanting to deal with the possibilities, Tom had shut his mind off to what the doctor was telling him.  However, he did notice that Booker’s expression became troubled as he listened to Doctor Hubert’s clinical speech about various treatments that were currently available.  All Tom could hope was that he would not need any of them.

A small frown creased Tom's brow when he realized that they had driven past the turnoff to his apartment and his heart began to hammer in his chest. “Where are we going?” he asked in a shaky voice.

Turning left and then right, Booker pulled into an underground car park before parking in bay number twelve.  Switching off the engine, he turned and gave Tom a somewhat guilty smile.  “I kind of figured you wouldn’t let me stay at your place so I’ve brought you to mine.  I really don’t think you should be on your own tonight Tommy.”

At first, Hanson felt angry at being treated as if he were a child but the feeling slowly faded when he saw the genuine look of concern on Dennis' face.  Sighing wearily, he managed a small smile.  “Just for tonight, but only ‘cause I’m too tired to argue.”

“Just for tonight,” Booker agreed.  As they caught the lift up to the fourth floor, Dennis tried to gauge Tom’s mood.  He appeared calmer than he had been in the hospital but he noticed that Tom had started to pick nervously at the scars on his arm.  Booker’s next goal was to get Hanson to agree to see a psychologist.  He knew that Tom needed professional help with dealing with the rapes and he knew that Captain Fuller would not allow him back to work until some form of counseling was undertaken.  He wondered when Tom would disclose the truth about his ordeal to his fellow officers.  Dennis now felt in somewhat of a difficult situation, knowing what he did about Tom’s time in Riverbend.  He did not want to betray Tom’s trust but he was unsure how he could lie to Fuller if asked if he knew anything.  Exiting the lift and leading Tom down the well-lit corridor, Booker decided to worry about it when the time came.

Unlocking his door, Dennis stood back and let Tom enter.  The apartment was small and messy, consisting of a combined kitchen/living area, one bedroom and a bathroom.  Gym equipment monopolized the living space, which also included a small couch, a coffee table and a TV.  “Take a seat,” Booker offered as he tossed his keys into a bowl on top of a bookcase.  “I’m just gonna change the sheets on the bed for you.”

“I’ll take the couch,” Tom replied quietly. “It doesn’t seem fair to kick you out of your bed.”

Booker smiled and Hanson once again marveled at how different the dark haired officer looked when his face relaxed.  “No arguments. You’re my guest for tonight so you get the bed.  Anyway, I’m not that tired so I’m happy to have the TV.”

“Okay,” Hanson replied, suddenly feeling exhausted from the night’s events.  Sitting down, he picked up the remote and switched on the television.  Flicking through the channels, he settled on a late night sports show.  Settling back, he closed his eyes and listened to the monotonous drone of the hosts’ voices as they discussed the statistics from last night’s hockey game.  Just as he was drifting off to sleep, he felt a light touch on his arm and he jumped violently, his eyes instantly opening in terror.  He felt relief when he saw Booker staring down at him.

“Sorry,” Dennis murmured, apologetically. “That was stupid of me.”

Tiredness suddenly overwhelmed Hanson and he once again sensed tears springing to the surface.  Embarrassed, he pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes and tried to stem the flow.  Unable to contain a sob, he felt Dennis sit beside him and drape an arm comfortingly around his shoulder.  “Shh,” Booker whispered softly. “It’s okay.”

“It’s _n-not_ okay!” Tom cried out in anguish as his sobbing intensified.  “It’s n-never going to b-be okay!  H-how am I s-supposed to get th-through this?”

Booker felt as though his heart was breaking.  Pulling Tom protectively against his chest, he stroked at his distraught colleagues hair. “One step at a time Tommy,” he whispered. “One step at a time.”  
 


	8. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Unlocking his door, Dennis stood back and let Tom enter.  The apartment was small and messy, consisting of a combined kitchen/living area, one bedroom and a bathroom.  Gym equipment monopolized the living space, which also included a small couch, a coffee table and a TV.  “Take a seat,” Booker offered as he tossed his keys into a bowl on top of a bookcase.  “I’m just gonna change the sheets on the bed for you.”_
> 
> _“I’ll take the couch,” Tom replied quietly.  “It doesn’t seem fair to kick you out of your bed.”_
> 
> _Booker smiled and Hanson once again marveled at how different the dark haired officer looked when his face relaxed.  “No arguments. You’re my guest for tonight so you get the bed.  Anyway, I’m not that tired so I’m happy to have the TV.”_
> 
> _“Okay,” Hanson replied, suddenly feeling exhausted from the night’s events.  Sitting down, he picked up the remote and switched on the television.  Flicking through the channels, he settled on a late night sports show.  Settling back, he closed his eyes and listened to the monotonous drone of the hosts’ voices as they discussed the statistics from last night’s hockey game.  Just as he was drifting off to sleep, he felt a light touch on his arm and he jumped violently, his eyes instantly opening in terror.  He felt relief when he saw Booker staring down at him._
> 
> _“Sorry,” Dennis murmured, apologetically.  “That was stupid of me.”_
> 
> _Tiredness suddenly overwhelmed Hanson and he once again sensed tears springing to the surface.  Embarrassed, he pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes and tried to stem the flow.  Unable to contain a sob, he felt Dennis sit beside him and drape an arm comfortingly around his shoulder.  “Shh,” Booker whispered softly.  “It’s okay.”_
> 
> _“It’s n-not okay!” Tom cried out in anguish as his sobbing intensified.  “It’s n-never going to b-be okay!  H-how am I s-supposed to get th-through this?”_
> 
> _Booker felt as though his heart was breaking.  Pulling Tom protectively against his chest, he stroked at his distraught colleagues hair.   “One step at a time Tommy,” he whispered.  “One step at a time.”_

**Friends**  

Having given Tom a towel and a new toothbrush out of the bathroom cabinet, Booker bid the young officer goodnight.  Stripping down to his t-shirt and boxers, he curled up on the couch and pulled a sheet over his tired body.  It was a balmy night, so he left the window open.  The TV remained on but he was oblivious to its inane chatter.  Instead, he lay and stared at the lace curtain gently rippling in the warm night breeze.   He felt emotionally drained, the night’s events having finally taking their toll on him.  Tears filled his eyes as he remembered Tom’s anguished cries in the hospital.  He wanted so desperately to help Hanson but he was terrified of revealing his true feelings and scaring Tom away.  Their relationship was so new and he was well aware that Hanson had trouble trusting him, based on their previous working relationship.  However, he hoped that Tom had seen a different side to him tonight, the side that he kept hidden from everyone except those he was extremely close to.  He had built up a defensive shield long ago to protect himself from the taunts he had received in high school about of his ambiguous sexuality.  Because of the endless intimidation he had faced, he now chose to give off a brash almost reckless persona in the hopes of disarming potential bullies before they had a chance to strike.  He knew his offensive attacks alienated him from his fellow officers but he had been doing it for so long, he barely knew how to let his guard down and show the real Dennis Booker.  It surprised him how quickly he had been able to reveal his softer side to Hanson.  Seeing Tom so distressed was part of the reason why he had willingly dropped his defenses, but even that did not account for all of it.  With a sigh, he rolled onto his side and stared blankly at the television.  There was no denying it, he was completely in love with Thomas Hanson and that was why he had so openly showed his gentler, caring side.  He _wanted_ Hanson to know that he was much more than the smug, overconfident police officer that he so convincingly portrayed himself to be. 

Closing his eyes, he let the sound of infomercials gently lull him into a deep sleep.  Hours later, he found himself violently yanked from his dreams by the sound of panicked screaming.  Disorientated, he tripped over the coffee table as he stumbled around the darkened room.  The screaming became louder as he threw open the bedroom door and saw Tom thrashing about in his sleep.  _“NO! NO!  NO! NO! NOOO!”_ Hanson shrieked hysterically, as his head lashed from side to side.

Without thinking, Booker tried to grab at Tom’s flailing arms, only to receive a punch to his face.  Crying out, he staggered backwards, his hand clutching his aching jaw.  He took a couple of seconds to calm himself before switching on the bedroom light.  “HANSON!” he shouted from the side of the bed. “You need to wake up!”

At the sound of his name, Tom’s eyes flew open.  He stopped thrashing around but his chest rose and fell heavily as he lay panting, his body covered in sweat.  “Booker?” he whispered, looking around him in shock as he slowly began to remember where he was.

Sitting down on the bed, Dennis laid a comforting hand on Tom’s thigh.  “It’s just me.  You were having a nightmare.”

“I thought I was…” Tom’s voice trailed off but Booker knew _exactly_ what Hanson had been dreaming about to cause so much distress.  

Unsure how to offer comfort, Dennis stood up.  “Can I get you anything?” he asked gently.

Tom’s face flushed pink and he quickly averted his eyes.  “No.  I’m fine, go back to sleep.”

Sensing that Hanson needed something, Booker sat back down on the bed.  “Tell me what you want Tommy,” he murmured softly as he gave an encouraging smile.

“It’s stupid,” Tom mumbled, still unable to meet Dennis’ dark gaze.

Booker’s smile softened.  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that,” he replied quietly.  

Taking a deep breath, Tom turned to face his new friend.  “Would it be weird if I asked you to stay with me?” he asked shyly, his face blushing a deeper shade of red.

Dennis felt his heart rate quicken at the thought of sharing a bed with Hanson, but he promptly reined in his feelings “Of course it’s not,” he replied tenderly. “It’s understandable you don’t want to be alone. Just let me switch off the TV and I’ll be right back.”

Tom’s expression visibly relaxed and he lay silently as Dennis left the room.  Moments later, Booker returned and switching off the light, he crawled into bed beside Hanson.  “Okay?” Dennis asked quietly as he lay down on his side facing Tom.

“Okay,” Hanson replied softly. “Thanks Dennis.”

Booker’s heart skipped a beat and a small shiver of delight ran down his spine at the sound of Tom calling him by his given name. Taking a deep breath, he smiled in return. “You’re welcome.”

**

The rest of the night passed peacefully and Booker awoke to the sound of early morning traffic outside his apartment.  With a groan, he sat up and running his fingers through his hair, he looked over at Tom who was still sleeping peacefully with his hands tucked under his face like a small child.  Dennis’ heart quickened and he marveled at how truly beautiful Hanson was.  He longed to reach out and stroke Tom’s sleep tousled hair, but he managed to restrain himself.  Being careful not to disturb his bed-mate, he threw back the covers and tiptoed out of the room, silently closing the door behind him.  Entering the bathroom, he relieved his bladder before turning on the shower faucets and stepping under the warm water.  Still sleepy, he let his hand travel down to his groin and bracing his other hand against the tiled wall, he slowly began to tug at his cock.  As his erection grew, his mind traveled back to Tom lying in his bed only a few feet away and he let out a loud moan as his hand quickened.  Rubbing his thumb over his weeping slit, his body shuddered with pleasure.  Dropping his head, he increased his pace, tugging rapidly as he felt his orgasm rising.  Panting heavily, he let out a muffled cry as he ejaculated forcefully over his fingers.  Sated, he stood motionless and let the enjoyment of his release sweep over him before picking up the soap and washing himself clean and shampooing his hair.  Turning off the faucets, he stepped out into the small bathroom, rubbed himself dry and brushed his teeth.  Raking his fingers through his semi-dry dried hair, he checked his reflection in the mirror.  A bruise had formed on the left side of his jaw and he winced slightly as his fingers gently poked and prodded at the red mark.  Satisfied that it was nothing serious, he wrapped the towel around his waist and walked quietly back into the bedroom.  

Checking that Tom was still asleep, Booker dropped his towel and pulled on a pair of clean boxers.  Rummaging through the clothing laying on the floor and spilling out of his closet, Dennis found a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt.  When he had finished dressing, he turned around and saw Tom’s sleepy gaze studying him.  Booker wondered how long Hanson had been awake and a shiver of delight ran down his spine at the thought of Tom seeing him naked.  Quickly composing himself, he gave Tom a warm smile.  “Hey Hanson, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Shaking his head, Tom’s brow creased into a frown.  “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice rising slightly in alarm.

“The Chapel,” Booker replied calmly.  “I have to go into work Tom, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Tom’s brown eyes stared back at Dennis.  “Promise me you won’t say anything to Fuller and the others,” he requested quietly. “I don’t want anyone to know what happened to me.”

Grabbing a pair of socks out of his bedside drawer, Booker perched on the edge of the bed.  “ _I_ know what happened to you,” he reminded Tom in a soft voice.

Hanson looked away. “You’re different,” he murmured.

Sadness filled Dennis’ heart.  “Because I’m not your friend?” he asked, desperately hoping that Tom would contradict him.  But Hanson remained silent, unwilling to meet Booker’s gaze.  Taking a deep breath, Dennis tried to keep his voice calm.  “They’re gonna find out Tom.  There’ll be an investigation and when—”

“No,” Tom answered quietly, as his eyes finally met Booker’s.  “There won’t be an investigation because I’m not pressing charges.”

Booker stared back, his expression disbelieving.  “You can’t let them get away with it Tom!  For Christ’s sake!  You _have_ to press charges.”

“No I don’t,” Hanson replied sullenly as he dropped his gaze and his fingers started to pick nervously at the scabs on his arm.  “I don’t want my mom or my friends to know what happened to me.  Not now, not ever.  Understand?”

Reaching out, Booker gently pulled Tom’s hand away from his bloodied arm.  “You need help Tommy, professional help.  Please don’t ask me to lie to Fuller, I’m a cop, I _have_ to tell him what I know.  You’ve been deeply traumatized, you need to be cleared before you can go back to work.”

“There’s no need,” Tom answered softly. “I’m quitting the force.”

Booker raked his hand through his hair in frustration.  “Tommy, you can’t!  For God’s sake, don’t make the decision now!  Take some time, ask Fuller to extend your leave but for fuck’s sake don’t throw your career away without even thinking about it.”

“I have thought about it,” Hanson replied, his voice surprisingly calm.  “I told you, I don’t want _anyone_ to know what happened to me and the only way I can keep that from happening is to quit.”

Studying Hanson’s tired, pale face, Booker felt himself being backed into a corner.  If he agreed not to tell his Captain about Tom’s rape, there would be no need for Hanson to resign.  But by keeping the secret, he would be responsible for sending Tom, who was most likely suffering from _Post Traumatic Stress Disorder_ , back into the field without his Senior Officer knowing.  He felt torn with doing what was best for Hanson and what was best for the Jump Street program.  Gazing deep into Tom’s soft, brown eyes, Dennis found himself wavering.  Sighing loudly, he gave Hanson a half smile.  “One month Hanson.  I'll keep my mouth shut for one month but only if you promise not to hand in your notice until we’ve discussed it again when the month is up.  Okay?”

Tom’s expression visibly relaxed and he gave Booker a half smile.  “Okay, thanks,” he muttered in a barely audible voice.

Pulling on his socks and boots, Dennis stood up.  “I’ll be home as soon as I can.  Just make yourself at home.”

As he started to walk out of the bedroom, he heard Tom’s soft voice behind him.  “Friends?” 

Dennis felt tears prick at his eyes.  It was the word he had longed to hear.  “Friends,” he murmured in assent.  But as drove through the heavy morning traffic, he could not help but think that Hanson had managed to manipulate him all too easily.  



	9. Good Times Bad Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Studying Hanson’s tired, pale face, Booker felt himself being backed into a corner.  If he agreed not to tell his Captain about Tom’s rape, there would be no need for Hanson to resign.  But by keeping the secret, he would be responsible for sending Tom, who was most likely suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, back into the field without his Senior Officer knowing.  He felt torn with doing what was best for Hanson and what was best for the Jump Street program.  Gazing deep into Tom’s soft, brown eyes, Dennis found himself wavering.  Sighing loudly, he gave Hanson a half smile.  “One month Hanson.  I’ll keep my mouth shut for one month but only if you promise not to hand in your notice until we’ve discussed it again when the month is up.  Okay?”_
> 
> _Tom’s expression visibly relaxed and he gave Booker a half smile.  “Okay, thanks,” he muttered in a barely audible voice._
> 
> _Pulling on his socks and boots, Dennis stood up.  “I’ll be home as soon as I can.  Just make yourself at home.”_
> 
> _As he started to walk out of the bedroom, he heard Tom’s soft voice behind him.  “Friends?”_
> 
> _Dennis felt tears prick at his eyes.  It was the word he had longed to hear.  “Friends,” he murmured in assent.  But as drove through the heavy morning traffic, he could not help but think that Hanson had managed to manipulate him all too easily._

**Good Times Bad Times**  

Arriving at work, Booker found The Chapel relatively peaceful.  It was only a few days until Spring Break and as most of their work revolved around being undercover in high schools and colleges, it was usual for things to start quieting down during mid-term.  Noticing Penhall sitting at his desk typing up a report, Dennis wondered if Doug had tried to contact Tom.  It occurred to him that because Hanson was now staying at his apartment, he would not know if his friends were trying to get in touch with him.  Booker suddenly began to question whether isolating Tom from his family and friends was in fact, the right thing to do.  

Walking over to the coffee machine, he overheard Judy talking to Harry.  “The trouble with Hanson is he can never ask anyone for help.”

Harry nodded in agreement.  “I know what you mean.  He always has to do everything himself.  _I_ was in Riverbend too and I know how tough it was.  But when I came out, I spoke to Fuller about it and—”

Booker angrily interrupted Ioki. “We were in there for _two_ fucking days Harry.  I think maybe you need to cut Hanson some slack.”

Raising an amused eyebrow at Harry, Hoffs laughed lightly.  “Wow Booker, I never expected to hear you jumping to Hanson’s defense!  There must be pigs flying somewhere.”

Scowling, Dennis pushed roughly past the two officers.  “Yeah?  And I never expected you and Harry to be so…”

Gripping hold of Booker’s arm, Harry spun him around.  “So _what_ Booker?  If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

Snatching his arm away, Dennis was about to tell Harry _exactly_ what he thought of him but he took a deep breath and calmed himself.  He had made Hanson a promise and if he suddenly started defending him, it would raise suspicion among their colleagues.  Everyone at Jump Street knew that the two officers had a mutual dislike for each other.  It secretly used to make Dennis smile because he had _never_ disliked Tom, it had been the exact opposite.  But it was easier to pretend indifference towards Hanson than it was to admit that he had feelings for the young officer.  Now that he and Tom were living in such close proximity, he needed to make sure he did not drop his façade.  “Nothing,” he replied coolly to Harry’s question.   “I had a rough night, I just need some coffee.”

Taking Judy by the arm, Harry escorted her away as they both whispered furiously about Booker’s odd behavior.  Sighing, Dennis poured himself a cup of steaming coffee and returned to his desk.  He needed to be more careful about defending Tom, otherwise he might have a lot of explaining to do.

**

Arriving back at his apartment just after lunch, Booker unlocked his door and threw the keys in the metal bowl.  He had asked for the afternoon off and was actually surprised when Fuller had granted his request.  Looking around, he was concerned when he didn't see Tom watching TV.  Frowning, he walked into the bedroom and then the bathroom, only to find both rooms empty.  He quickly cast his eye around the living area, looking for a note.  He finally found it attached to the refrigerator by a magnet.  

_Thanks for everything, I’m okay now.  Tom_

Screwing the note up into a ball, Booker threw it angrily into the trashcan.  He should have known that Tom would leave as soon he left the apartment.  Fear suddenly gripped his heart as he remembered the bloody razor blade that Hanson had swiftly hidden the night before.  Grabbing up his keys, he ran from his apartment and down the four flights of stairs to the underground car park.  With his tires squealing, he raced out into the afternoon traffic towards Tom’s apartment.  The words _I’m okay now_ kept racing around his mind.  He knew that Hanson was anything but okay and all he could do was hope that Tom had not done anything stupid.

Double parking outside Tom’s apartment, Booker ignored the angry cries from the Honda owner and sprinted inside.  Racing up two flights of stairs, he banged loudly on Hanson’s door.  “Open up Hanson!  Open the fucking door _NOW!”_

The door opened and Hanson stood swaying drunkenly as he held onto the door for support.  “Why you makin’ so much noise?” he slurred. “You’re gonna piss off the neighbors.”

Pushing his way inside, Booker could not contain his anger.  “Why the _FUCK_ did you…” he started to yell before his eyes noticed Tom’s arm covered in blood from the fresh cuts he had inflicted.  His voice dropped to a whisper and his eyes filled with tears. “Oh Jesus Tommy.”

Hanson staggered back to the couch and picked up the almost empty bottle of whiskey.  “CHEERS!” he yelled, raising the bottle and draining it.  When it was empty, he stared at it angrily before throwing it against the wall.  As the glass smashed, he grinned manically.  “More alcohol!” he hollered.  Stumbling into the kitchen, he threw open the refrigerator door and started tossing condiments onto the floor, mumbling incoherently to himself.

Dennis watched on in horror.  He felt as though he was witnessing a train wreck, he was unable to take his eyes off Tom and his body seemed powerless to move.  When Hanson found the beer he had been looking for, Booker finally acted.  Stepping through the debris of food and broken bottles littering the kitchen floor, he gently pulled the bottle out of Tom’s hand.  “No more,” he instructed calmly.  “This isn’t helping.”

Without warning, Tom punched his fist into the side of Booker’s head.  Crying out in pain, Booker fell backwards onto the floor, clutching his head in his hands.  The beer bottle smashed to the floor, covering his legs in liquid.  Dennis’ vision blurred but he could see Tom swaying in front of him, barely able to remain on his feet.  Knowing he had to act swiftly, Booker staggered to his feet and before Hanson could react, he slammed his fist into Tom’s jaw.  Already unsteady on his feet, Hanson hit the floor hard and pieces of broken glass dug into his already damaged arms.  As Dennis’ vision cleared, he saw Tom staring up at him in confusion.  He watched silently as a single tear trickled down Tom’s beautiful face.  Feeling like a complete bastard, Booker felt his own tears pricking at his eyes.  Stepping forward, he offered Hanson his hand but Tom ignored it.  “Why can’t you leave me alone?” Hanson snapped, trying desperately to scramble to his feet.

Reaching down, Booker lifted Tom to a standing position.  When Hanson did not resist, he led him through the detritus covering the floor and over to the couch.  Holding Tom’s arm in his hand, he gently picked out several pieces of broken glass.  Returning to the kitchen, he opened and closed cupboards until he found a first aid kit.  Sitting back down, he took out a bandage and carefully wrapped it around Tom’s bleeding arm.  He slowly repeated the procedure on Hanson’s other arm and when he had finished, he sat back and gave Tom a hard stare.  “This needs to stop Tommy, you need help.”

Hanson’s lower lip started to quiver and his bluster started to fade.  “Oh God Dennis,” he whispered, as tears spilled from his bewildered eyes.  “I’m falling apart.”

“It’s okay,” Booker replied as Tom began to weep openly.  “We’re going to find you some help.”  Pulling the young officer into his arms, he once again wondered if by keeping Tom’s secret he was actually causing Hanson more harm.

**

Having grabbed up various articles of clothing and toiletries and throwing them into a bag for Tom, Dennis cast a furtive glance at the answering machine.  A red zero flashed, signaling that there were no messages.  Sadness filled Booker’s heart, he could not believe that Penhall had made no contact with Tom.  The two officers were best friends and Dennis would have thought that Doug of all people should have known that there was something very wrong with the way Tom had behaved after his release from Riverbend.  

On the drive back to his apartment, Booker needed to stop the car several times so Tom could be sick.  Neither man spoke on the short journey through the busy city streets.  Opening the door to his apartment, Booker watched silently as Tom entered and went straight into the bedroom and closed the door.  Throwing Hanson’s bag onto the floor, Dennis wondered if it would be best to leave Tom alone but thoughts of bloody razor blades flashed into his mind.  Reaching down and picking up Tom’s bag, he opened the bedroom door.

Tom was lying on his side, his knees curled up to his chest.  Booker thought how small and vulnerable Hanson looked and he quickly pushed away images of Tom struggling to free himself from his attackers.  Placing the bag down next to the closet, he sat on the edge of the bed.  Tom made no signs that he was aware of his presence and Dennis waited several minutes before speaking. “We need to talk.”

“I’m sick,” Tom mumbled into his pillow.

“Yeah well, drinking a bottle of whiskey will do that to you,” Booker teased lightly before again turning serious.  “You’re spiraling out of control Tommy.  The drinking, the cutting, you need to talk to someone, a professional.”

Tom sat up slowly, his face slightly green with nausea.  “I don’t want to talk to someone, I want to deal with it in my own way,” he muttered irritably.  “And if you don’t like it, maybe you should leave me the hell alone instead of keep coming around to my apartment and dragging me back here.”

Booker sighed heavily.  “I’m trying to help you Tom.  Why won’t you let me help you?”

Hanson did not reply, instead he lay back down and turned his back to Dennis.  After several minutes passed, Booker stood up and left the room.

**

Not in the mood to cook, Booker ordered pizza from his favorite pizza bar.  When it arrived, he checked on Tom to see if he was hungry but he found him fast asleep under the covers.  Sitting back drinking a beer after polishing off most of the pie, he turned around when he heard the bedroom door open.  Tom emerged looking sleepy and rather unwell.  Before Booker could say anything, Tom bolted into the bathroom and Dennis could hear him throwing up.  When he heard the toilet flush, he got up and knocked on the bathroom door.  “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, just give me a minute,” Tom replied as he turned on the faucet and splashed cold water over his face.  Staring into the mirror above the sink, Hanson was shocked at how pale his face was.  He glanced down at his bandages and saw that blood had already seeped through the white gauze and he instantly became aware of a dull throbbing in his arms.  His stomach churned and dropping to his knees, he once again vomited into the toilet.  Hot tears sprang to his eyes as he sobbed and heaved until his stomach was empty. Flushing the lavatory, he stood up on shaky legs and hanging onto the sink for support, he once more rinsed his face and mouth with water.  When his legs felt steady, he opened the door and exited into the living room.

Booker was leaning against the back of the couch, his arms crossed in front of him.  When Tom emerged, he stepped forward, his expression compassionate.  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he murmured.

Tom nodded, too frail to trust himself to speak without breaking down.  Sitting down, he curled his legs under him and laid his head on the arm of the couch.  He felt the black hole of depression sucking him in but he was powerless to stop it.  He knew Booker was trying to help him but he did not know how to accept the help.  The thought of talking about his ordeal was too much for him to bear and he wanted nothing more than to try to forget that it had ever happened.  Closing his eyes, he could feel Matty’s warm breath against his neck as he whispered, _“See you tonight gorgeous boy,”_ and another wave of nausea washed over him.  He instinctively started to scratch at the bandaging covering his arm but he felt Booker’s fingers gently take his hand and pull it away.  Opening his eyes, he saw Dennis’ worried face staring back at him and he managed a watery smile.  “Sorry,” he muttered. “I know you’re only trying to help.”

“Then let me,” Booker answered back quietly.  When Tom did not answer, Dennis let out a loud sigh.  He needed to be careful not to push Hanson away by being too demanding but he also knew that if he sat back and did nothing, Tom’s fragile mental state could snap completely.  Booker was starting to realize just how precarious the situation was and he wished he had someone to talk to about his concerns.  

Looking down at Tom’s pale, miserable face, Booker started to think that maybe he would have to break his promise if he had any hope of saving his friend.


	10. For Your Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING! The following chapter deals with a suicide attempt.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Tom nodded, too frail to trust himself to speak without breaking down.  Sitting down, he curled his legs under him and laid his head on the arm of the couch.  He felt the black hole of depression sucking him in but he was powerless to stop it.  He knew Booker was trying to help him but he did not know how to accept the help.  The thought of talking about his ordeal was too much for him to bear and he wanted nothing more than to try to forget that it had ever happened.  Closing his eyes, he could feel Matty’s warm breath against his neck as he whispered, “See you tonight gorgeous boy,” and another wave of nausea washed over him.  He instinctively started to scratch at the bandaging covering his arm but he felt Booker’s fingers gently take his hand and pull it away.  Opening his eyes, he saw Dennis’ worried face staring back at him and he managed a watery smile.  “Sorry,” he muttered.  “I know you’re only trying to help.”_
> 
> _“Then let me,” Booker answered back quietly.  When Tom did not answer, Dennis let out a loud sigh.  He needed to be careful not to push Hanson away by being too demanding but he also knew that if he sat back and did nothing, Tom’s fragile mental state could snap completely.  Booker was starting to realize just how precarious the situation was and he wished he had someone to talk to about his concerns._
> 
> _Looking down at Tom’s pale, miserable face, Booker started to think that maybe he would have to break his promise if he had any hope of saving his friend._

**For Your Life**  

As the days passed, Booker began to feel more relaxed about Tom’s state of mind.  Good news had come through from the hospital, Tom’s blood work and urine had come back clear of any STDs.  The doctor advised Hanson to have a follow up test in a month and although there was a two-week wait on the HIV results, Dennis knew it had been a huge relief for Tom and a positive step forward in his recovery.   But even though Booker felt Tom was gradually improving, he had initially been wary about leaving his friend alone, so he had phoned in sick for a couple of days just so he could keep an eye on how Hanson was coping.  Being with him for twenty-four hours a day meant Tom had no chance to cut himself, although he constantly scratched at the bandaging that Dennis insisted he wore to protect his arms.  Nighttime was the most unnerving, with Tom’s night terrors reaching almost fever pitch as he thrashed around screaming in fear.  The only way Booker could pull Hanson back to reality was to call his name, as he risked certain injury if he tried to subdue him physically.  When Tom finally woke, his body would be drenched in sweat and he lay hyperventilating in terror until Booker pulled him into his arms and held him close..  It was during these episodes that Dennis felt the closest to Tom, as it was the only time Hanson sort any type of comfort.  During waking hours, Tom was mostly monosyllabic with his responses, unwilling to engage in any conversation that might lead to discussions about getting professional help for his depression.  Dennis did not push, as he feared if he did, that Hanson would leave the sanctuary of his apartment and he would find himself completely excluded from Hanson’s life.

Having taken two days off work, Booker knew he had run out of excuses.  Although they had no current undercover assignments, Captain Fuller still expected his officers to report in daily.  Hanson had another week's leave and Dennis had suggested that it would be in his best interest to ask for an extension.  But Tom stubbornly refused to discuss the topic other than to hint that it made no difference as he would resign as soon as their month’s agreement was up.

Pulling on his boots, Booker looked down at Tom’s sleeping face.  He finally looked at peace and Booker did not want to wake him just to tell him he was going to work.  Pulling out a pen and paper from his bedside drawer, he quickly scribbled a note.

_Gone to The Chapel.  Call me if you need to.  Booker_

Feeling more than a little uneasy at leaving Tom alone, Dennis left the message on the bedside table before grabbing up his jacket and closing the bedroom door softly behind him.

**

Rather than have his officers sitting around idle, Fuller had organized for Booker, Penhall, Ioki and Hoffs to attend a training course in hostage negotiations.  With his mind solely on Tom, Dennis found concentrating difficult and he continuously received the wrath of the instructor throughout the day.  When he failed the practical test for the third time, Penhall gave him a stinging slap around the side of the head.  “Damn it Booker, what the hell is wrong with you?” he snapped.  “That’s the third time you’ve frozen up.  At this rate we’re never gonna leave.”

“Sorry,” Dennis muttered, rubbing his face with his hands in an attempt to clear his mind.  

Penhall narrowed his eyes.  “You’ve been acting weird for days.  Is there something going on we should know about?”

“It’s nothing,” Booker replied quickly. “Just family stuff.”

Doug studied Booker’s face closely.  He had never heard Dennis talk about his family before and he found it odd that they were suddenly making such an impact on his life.  Although he thought of Booker as arrogant and self-absorbed, he had always found him to be a good cop and he trusted him with his life.  But his lack of focus during the course had Doug thinking that whatever was troubling him must be serious.  He had never seen Booker so jumpy and inattentive.  Reaching out, he laid a comforting hand on his partner’s arm.  “If you need to talk, I’m here.”

Booker felt genuinely touched by Doug’s display of concern and he gave his colleague a reassuring smile. “You never know Penhall,” he replied. “I might just take you up on that.”

**

With Penhall’s help, Booker managed to scrape through a pass in the course.  Throwing his bulletproof vest into the trunk of his car, he slammed down the lid.  Looking at his watch, he groaned when he saw the time.  He had been away from Hanson for over eight hours and he felt the urgent need to get home and check on his houseguest.  Jumping into his car, he sped out of the academy and into peak hour traffic.  Frustration made him jumpy and he slammed his hand repeatedly onto the horn, in the vague hope that it would help to get the traffic moving.   When he finally pulled into his parking space, his nerves were jangling.  Not bothering to wait for the lift, he took the stairs two at a time up to the fourth floor.  When he arrived outside his apartment door, he took a moment to calm himself, not wanting Tom to see how anxious he was feeling.  Taking deep calming breaths, he put the key in the lock and opened the door.

When he saw that Tom was not in the living room, he did not immediately feel concerned.  Tossing his keys into the bowl, he walked into the bedroom, expecting to see his friend napping on the bed.  Coldness gripped his heart when he found that room also vacant.  Turning, he sighed in relief when he noticed the bathroom door was closed.  Flopping down onto the couch, he flicked on the television and started to watch the evening news.  When several minutes passed and Tom did not emerge, he stood up and walked over to the bathroom door.  “Are you all right in there Hanson?” he called out, keeping his voice calm.  When he received no reply, he knocked on the door.  “Tommy, are you in there?”

Seconds ticked by without an answer and Dennis began to feel worried.  Rubbing his fingers nervously across his upper lip, he rapped his knuckles hard against the door.  “I’m coming in Tommy,” he warned, his voice rising in fear.  Turning the handle, Booker prayed that Tom had not locked the door and he sighed with relief when it opened a crack.  As he pushed, he felt something heavy obstructing the way.  “TOM!” he yelled, when he saw a bare leg lying on the floor.  “Oh God!”

Shoving all his weight against the door, Booker managed to open it just enough so he could squeeze through the narrow entrance.  Looking down, he choked back a cry as acid rose from his stomach and into his throat. “OH JESUS!  OH JESUS FUCKING _CHRIST!”_ he yelled, instantly dropping to his knees and pulling Tom into his arms.  

Blood covered the black and white tiled floor.  Tom lay unconscious on the floor, naked except for his boxers, which were stained red with his own blood.  His forearms were sliced open from elbow to wrist and a bloody razor blade lay limply in his right hand.  Adrenaline coursed through Booker’s body and he jumped to his feet, skidding and almost falling as his feet slipped through the dark amber liquid pooling around Tom’s body.  Running into the living area, he picked up the phone and dialed 911.  “Ambulance!” he yelled hysterically when the operator answered. “Oh God!  He’s tried to kill himself!”

After giving his address, Booker slammed down the phone and quickly unlocked his door before running back into the bathroom.  Grabbing a couple of towels from the cabinet, he wrapped them around Tom’s arms in an effort to stem the flow of blood.  Sitting down on the floor, he cradled Hanson’s head in his lap, all the while talking to him in a loud voice.  “Stay with me Hanson!  Don’t you dare leave me, don’t you dare fucking leave me!”

The sound of sirens split through the still night air.  “They’re almost here Tommy, just hang on, please just hang on!” Booker whimpered as he stroked Tom’s pale face.  A loud voice announced the arrival of the paramedics.  Dennis was quickly ushered out of the small bathroom as the medics assessed Tom’s injuries and he paced frantically back and forth outside the door, raking his fingers frantically through his unruly dark hair.  After several minutes, the two paramedics lifted Tom out of the bathroom and onto a stretcher.  “Are you coming with us?” the older of the two men asked Dennis.

Too shocked to speak, Booker just nodded.  Following the men out the door, he did not even bother to lock up.  They rode the lift down to the car park and Tom was loaded into the back of the waiting ambulance.  Climbing into the front seat, Booker stared numbly out the window as they sped through the city streets to the same hospital where they had been a week before.  Pulling outside the emergency department, they wheeled Tom through to an empty bay where a doctor and several nurses stood waiting.  A nurse told him to stay in the waiting room until someone came to find him.  Sitting down on the hard gray chair, Dennis noticed for the first time that Tom’s blood covered his hands and clothing.  The true horror of the situation hit him hard and he burst into tears.  Seeing his distress, a passing nurse sat down and put her arm around him.  After several minutes, she escorted him to the bathroom and helped him to clean up.  In a daze, Dennis watched as Tom’s blood swirled down the drain as the nurse scrubbed at his hands and arms.  Leading him back to the waiting area, the nurse left but returned several minutes later with a cup of black coffee.  “Is there anyone I can ring for you?” she asked kindly.  Booker shook his head, too numb to realize that he should let Tom’s mother know what had happened.

Hours passed and Dennis sat with his head in his hands, desperately waiting for someone to tell him that Hanson was all right.  He could not help but feel that he had failed Tom.  As he repeatedly played the night’s events over in his mind, he wished he had not waited so long before barging into the bathroom.  If Tom died, he would never know if those few vital minutes would have made any difference in keeping him alive.  He should have insisted that Hanson seek professional help instead of thinking that he was equipped to deal with Tom’s depression.  Once again, his arrogance had proved to be his downfall.

So caught up in his misery, Booker did not see the doctor until he was standing in front of him.  Jumping out of his seat, he raked his hands through his hair.  “Tell me he’s okay,” he implored. “Please tell me he’s okay!”

“Officer Hanson is in surgery,” the doctor replied. “Are you the next of kin?”

“No, um, we’re friends, we work together.  Please, I _need_ to know if he’s okay.  _Please!”_ Booker pleaded, his eyes desperately searching the doctor’s face for answers.

Looking down at his clipboard, Doctor Jones read Tom’s notes.  “The surgery is to repair the damage to the tendons.  He’s lost a lot of blood, so he is having a transfusion.”

“And after?” Dennis whispered.  “I mean, will he be all right _after_ the surgery?”

“There is a chance he may not have full use of his hands,” Doctor Jones replied matter-of-factly.  “It will take several months before we know the full extent of the damage.”

“Oh God,” Booker muttered softly. “When can I see him?”

“You can’t,” Jones replied brusquely.  “When he’s well enough he’ll be sent to a psychiatric facility and only his next of kin will be able to visit.  Which reminds me, do you have the name and number of his parents?”

“His mother’s name is Margaret, I don’t have a number but I can get it,” Dennis replied quietly.

“Phone it through as soon as you can,” the doctor instructed and without giving Booker a chance to reply, he turned on his heel and walked away.

Sitting back down, Booker covered his face with his hand and wept silently.  Because of his poor judgment, Hanson now ran the risk of permanent disability.  That, coupled with the doctor’s decision to sanction him to a secure psychiatric facility would surely mean the end to his career as a police officer.  

Wiping his tears away, Booker stood up and exited the hospital.  He now had to face the hardest conversation he had ever had in his life.  Getting into his car, he drove the short distance to Penhall’s apartment.  



	11. Nobody's Fault But Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Sitting back down, Booker covered his face with his hand and wept silently.  Because of his poor judgment, Hanson now ran the risk of permanent disability.  That, coupled with the doctor’s decision to sanction him to a secure psychiatric facility would surely mean the end to his career as a police officer._
> 
> _Wiping his tears away, Booker stood up and exited the hospital.  He now had to face the hardest conversation he had ever had in his life.  Getting into his car, he drove the short distance to Penhall’s apartment._

**Nobody's Fault But Mine**  

A loud banging woke Doug Penhall from a deep sleep.  Glancing at the red luminous numbers on his digital clock, he groaned loudly.  Throwing back the covers, he stomped down the stairs of his mezzanine floor bedroom to the level below.  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he growled crossly.  Yanking open the door, he stared in surprise at Dennis Booker.  “Jesus Christ Booker, it’s three o’clock in the fucking morning!  This had better be an emergency.”  When Dennis lifted his head, Doug was shocked to see tears in the tough cop’s eyes.  “What is it?” he asked, fear gripping at his heart when he noticed blood on Booker’s clothing.  “Are you okay?”

“No,” Dennis sobbed as he covered his face with his hand.  

Penhall quickly ushered the distressed officer into his untidy home.  Throwing clothing from the couch, he offered Booker a seat.  “You’re starting to scare me Booker.  What the hell is going on?”

Meeting Penhall’s gaze, Dennis’ distress was evident.  “It’s all my fault, I should have known not to leave him alone.  Oh my God Doug, there was so much blood and now he’s in hospital and—”

“Who’s in hospital?” Penhall asked, his voice rising in concern.  “You’re not making any sense Booker.  For fuck’s sake, tell me what’s going on!”

 _“HANSON!”_   Dennis yelled as he jumped to his feet and started pacing the floor.  “I came home and Tommy’s lying on the floor with his wrists slashed open! There was so much blood and I—”  

But before Booker could finish, Penhall grabbed him by both arms and slammed him up against the wall.  “You had better tell me what the _HELL_ is going on,” Doug snarled through clenched teeth.  “And if this is some kind of sick joke, you are going to find yourself in a world of—”

“IT’S NOT!” Booker yelled, pushing Penhall away.  “Tom took a razor blade to his wrists because he was _raped!_   He was fucking raped in Riverbend and we left him in there!  This is _our_ fault.  We should have done something!”

Doug stared back at Booker in confusion.  “How do you know all this?”

Sitting back down, Dennis ran his fingers through his hair.  “I went to his apartment, the night after he was released.  I knew something was wrong by the way he was acting and I wanted to make sure he was okay.  He broke down and told me what happened.  He’s been living with me ever since.”

“Does Fuller know?” Penhall asked quietly.  When Booker shook his head, Doug turned and slammed his fist violently into the wall.  “YOU SHOULD HAVE FUCKING _TOLD_ SOMEONE!” he yelled angrily.  “Who the _FUCK_ do you think you are?  This is not _our_ fault, it’s _your_ fucking fault!”

“I know,” Dennis whispered sadly, as fresh tears spilled from his eyes.  “But Hanson didn’t want anyone to know and I thought I was doing what was best for him.”

“Or maybe you thought you could keep Hanson all to yourself,” Doug spat back. Seeing Booker’s surprised look, Penhall smiled back bitterly.  “Yeah I know about your little crush.  You may _think_ you keep your feelings hidden but I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

“Oh Jesus,” Booker muttered, dropping his gaze to the floor.  “You’re right Penhall, I _do_ have feelings for Tommy but you’ve got to believe that I would _never_ do anything to harm him.”

“Too late,” Doug shot back hurtfully.  “Now get out.”

Dennis stood up and made his way to the door.  As he turned the knob, he looked back over his shoulder.  “The hospital needs Tom’s mom’s phone number, she hasn’t been told about—”

“I’ll sort it,” Penhall retorted.  “Now get the hell out of my sight.”

** 

Driving back to his apartment, Booker felt a wave of depression wash over him.  If he had handled things differently, Tom would not be lying unconscious in a hospital bed with his arms slashed to ribbons.  Arriving home, he slowly walked up the four flights of stairs to his apartment.  Pushing open the unlocked door, he could see his bloody footprints on the floor where he had run for the phone.  His stomach lurched and clamping a hand over his mouth, he ran into the kitchen and vomited into the sink.  A prickly heat warmed his skin and turning on the cold faucet, he gulped handfuls of cooling water before splashing his hot face.  Picking up a dishtowel, he patted his face dry and threw it onto the counter.  Even though he was not sure he could stomach it, he knew he needed to clean the bathroom because the longer he left it, the harder it would. Taking a bucket from under the sink, he filled it with scalding water and disinfectant and putting on rubber gloves, he grabbed the discarded dishtowel and walked into the bathroom. Dropping to his knees, he methodically scrubbed at the large red stain covering the floor.  He had to keep emptying and refilling the bucket before the floor was finally spotless.  When he stood up, he noticed blood splatter covering the walls, toilet and hand basin.   Sinking to the floor, he covered his face in his hands and wept.  After several minutes, he pulled himself together and refilling the bucket, he continued to scrub until all traces of Tom’s blood was gone.  He then repeated the process in the living area, wiping clean the bloody trail of footsteps that traversed the linoleum floor.

Stripping down to his boxers, he tossed his t-shirt, jeans and the dishtowel into the trash.  Wanting nothing more than to go to sleep, he forced himself to take a hot shower.  When he was clean, he crawled naked under the covers and clutching Tom’s pillow to his chest, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

**

When news of Tom’s attempted suicide became public knowledge around The Chapel, Booker’s fellow officers immediately excluded him.  On receiving the information from Penhall, Fuller had called Dennis into his office and spent half an hour screaming at him about how irresponsible, pigheaded and arrogant he was.  Although threatened with suspension, Adam eventually agreed to allow Booker to remain at Jump Street, but only on desk duty until further notice.  Isolated from his work colleagues, Dennis had no one to talk to about the horror he had witnessed in his own home and he felt himself slowly withdrawing from human contact.  Work became just a place to go and earn money; no longer did he enjoy being a cop.  Now that he was not out in the field, his job became meaningless.

After his surgery, Hanson’s doctor had released him to the Brentwood Psychiatric Facility.  In the month that he had been there, only Margaret Hanson had access to her son under supervised visitations.  Booker heard through The Chapel grape vine that Margaret was having trouble coping with Tom’s attempted suicide because of her strict religious beliefs.  According to Penhall, when she spoke about Tom she appeared detached from her son, as though she was discussing someone else’s child.

Every night when he came home, Booker rang Brentwood even though he was told the same thing; no visitors except for immediate family.  He wanted desperately to visit Tom so he could gauge for himself his friend’s mental state.  Time dragged on and the only information he received about Hanson was from listening to gossip at work.  He tried to discount most of what he heard, not wanting to believe that Tom had tried a second time to end his life.  But he knew the only way he would feel at peace would be to see Hanson with his own eyes.

Several more weeks dragged by in mind-numbing monotony for Booker.  Entering his apartment after another tedious day typing up reports, he kicked off his boots and walked over to the small table on which his telephone and answering machine were situated.  He was surprised to see a red blinking light signaling that he had a message.  Touching the play button, he started to walk into his bedroom but he stopped motionless when he heard a female voice speaking. _“This is Nurse Amy Gray at the Brentwood facility.  I would like to speak to you about scheduling a visit to see Mr. Thomas Hanson.  Please call me back on 555-8282.”_

Dennis’ legs started to shake as he replayed the message.  It had been six long weeks but he was finally going to see his Tommy.  



	12. Black Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **The title "Black Dog" is in reference to depression.  It is a commonly used term here in Australia but I'm not sure if it used elsewhere around the world so I thought I had better explain :)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Every night when he came home, Booker rang Brentwood even though he was told the same thing; no visitors except for immediate family.  He wanted desperately to visit Tom so he could gauge for himself his friend’s mental state.  Time dragged on and the only information he received about Hanson was from listening to gossip at work.  He tried to discount most of what he heard, not wanting to believe that Tom had tried a second time to end his life.  But he knew the only way he would feel at peace would be to see Hanson with his own eyes._
> 
> _Several more weeks dragged by in mind-numbing monotony for Booker.  Entering his apartment after another tedious day typing up reports, he kicked off his boots and walked over to the small table on which his telephone and answering machine were situated.  He was surprised to see a red blinking light signaling that he had a message.  Touching the play button, he started to walk into his bedroom but he stopped motionless when he heard a female voice speaking.  “This is Nurse Amy Gray at the Brentwood facility.  I would like to speak to you about scheduling a visit to see Mr. Thomas Hanson.  Please call me back on 555-8282.”_
> 
> _Dennis’ legs started to shake as he replayed the message.  It had been six long weeks but he was finally going to see his Tommy._

**Black Dog**  

Filling out the visitation form, Booker felt nervous energy flowing through his body.  He had an urgent need to see his friend but he was terrified of what he would witness when he finally walked into the visiting area.  He knew nothing of Tom’s recovery except from the snippets he had gleaned whilst eavesdropping at The Chapel.  He dismissed most of the stories as supposition, just nasty gossip from those who did not really know Hanson.  But there was one rumor that disturbed Booker and that was that Tom had tried to commit suicide for a second time whilst in Brentwood.  If Hanson was receiving help for his depression and _still_ trying to end his life, Dennis knew that the situation was desperate and Tom had a long road ahead of him before he would ever be able to lead a normal life again.

Handing in his form to the administration nurse, Dennis waited for a security officer to escort him through the secure facility to what the staff called _The Day Room_.   Prior to entering Brentwood, he had passed through a metal detector and the guard had asked him to remove his belt.  He had read the literature that had accompanied the visitation form, advising him on the strict rules within the center.  At no time was he to pass any sharp objects to a patient, nor was he to raise his voice or cause any undue stress by asking questions about an inmate’s treatment unless the patient himself brought up the subject.  If Tom showed any signs of anxiety, the visit would end immediately and security would ask Booker to leave.  But if everything went smoothly, Dennis would be able to spend an hour with Hanson under the watchful eye of several psychiatric nurses.

A loud buzz signaled the secure metal gate opening and a tall, thin male guard entered the waiting room.  “Dennis Booker to visit Thomas Hanson,” the man announced in a loud voice.

Standing up Booker wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans before stepping forward.  The guard told him to lift his arms and he quickly patted him down.  “You’ve read Brentwood’s regulations leaflet?” he asked in a deep voice that did not match his slender frame.

Dennis nodded. “Yeah, um, I’m a cop so I know—”

“You don’t know shit ‘til you’ve seen what can happen if you break the rules,” the officer replied bluntly.  “You don’t wanna see an inmate having a breakdown, it’ll scare the crap outta you.” 

Booker felt sweat trickle down his spine.  Suddenly, he did not feel prepared to see Hanson.  He wished he had taken his time before rushing in without knowing exactly what he was about to be faced with.  But when he had received the call to tell him that Hanson wanted to see him, his heart had completely overridden his head.  He had always been impulsive and once again, his impatience had put him in a situation that he could not back away from, no matter how unnerved he felt.  He was committed to visiting Hanson and now that he was there, he had to see it through.

“Are you coming?” the guard asked irritably.  “I haven’t got all day.”

“Let’s go,’ Booker replied steadily, hoping his shaky hands did not reveal his nervousness.  The metal gate buzzed open and he followed the officer down a long corridor.  The air smelt strongly of disinfectant and Dennis felt his stomach churn.  They passed through another locked gate and down several more hallways before the officer stopped in front of a third, smaller locked gate that was the doorway leading into a large airy room.  

“End of the road,” the man stated as he unlocked the door with a key hanging from his belt.  “There’s plenty of trained staff keeping watch so there’s nothin’ to be afraid of.”

Swallowing down his fear, Dennis walked through the open door.  He jumped slightly when it clanged shut behind him.  A middle-aged woman dressed in a nurse's uniform scurried over carrying a clipboard.  “Name?” she asked officially.

Booker cleared his throat. “Dennis Booker, I’m here to see—”

“Thomas Hanson,” the nurse replied, as she nodded towards the large grated window.  “He’s over there.” Sensing Booker’s apprehension, her tone softened.  “You’ll be fine.  Tom’s come a long way since he’s been with us.  There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Looking over to where the nurse had indicated, Dennis saw a thin figure sitting on a broad window ledge, staring out into the garden below.  His bandaged arms hugged his drawn up legs and his chin rested on his knees.  Booker quickly blinked back tears when he realized he was looking at Hanson.  He could not believe how much weight Tom had lost.  Although he had always been slight in stature, Hanson looked tiny to Dennis, as though he had not been eating properly.

Taking a deep, calming breath, he walked slowly towards the ghostly figure sitting by the window.  He stopped a few feet away and waited for a couple of moments, expecting Hanson to look around.  When he received no indication that Tom was even aware that he was there, he cleared his throat before speaking. “Hey Tommy."

Turning his head slowly, Tom stared at Booker before giving him a slow smile.  “Hey Dennis, thanks for coming.”

Although shocked at how pale and gaunt Hanson’s face was, Booker returned the smile.  “I’ve been waiting for the call for weeks.”  Moving forward, he perched on the window ledge.  “Are you doing okay?”

Tom gazed out of the window for a moment before replying.  “You know, up and down but they tell me I’m getting better.  They’re looking at releasing me in few weeks.”

“That’s great!” Booker exclaimed over-enthusiastically.  Feeling foolish at his excited outburst, Booker grinned self-consciously.  “Sorry, that was a little over the top.  I just meant that I’m happy that you’ve made such good progress.”

Hanson slowly lifted his arms, revealing splints to keep movement to a minimum.  “Yeah well, I’ve still got a long way to go.  They tell me I’ve damaged the tendons in my arms and I might never have full use of my hands again.”

Gulping down a sob, Booker tried to maintain his composure.  “Oh Tommy,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Tom’s gaze traveled back to the garden below.  “Not your fault,” he murmured softly.

Booker did not reply.  He still felt _completely_ responsible for Tom’s condition, he should have known better than to leave someone who was obviously depressed, alone for eight hours.  But berating himself did not help Hanson.  He needed to right his wrongs by giving Tom whatever it was he needed to make a full recovery.  Reaching out, he took hold of Tom’s hand and gently squeezed his fingers.  “So, you must be looking forward to going home.  Are you going to your mom’s or—”

Slowly drawing his hand out of Booker’s grasp, Hanson shook his head, as he continued to stare out of the dirty window.  “She’s not too happy with me, you know, suicide’s a sin and she’s very religious.”

“Oh,” Booker replied, unable to think of anything comforting to say.  Minutes ticked by and an uneasy silence stretched out between them until Dennis suddenly spoke up.  “Damn it Hanson, I’m treading on eggshells here because they told me not to upset you!  But there are things I want to say, things I _need_ to say.  I want you to come back and live with me.  I want you as my friend and I want to help you in any way I can.”

Turning his head slowly, Tom gazed deep into Booker’s eyes.  “Is that ‘cause you’ve got a crush on me?” he asked quietly.

A hot red flush of embarrassment crept up Dennis’ face.  “Jesus,” he muttered. “Did Penhall tell you?”

Tom nodded.  “We’ve been speaking on the phone the last few days as part of my therapy.  He warned me that you would try and take advantage of me for your own needs.”

Tears of humiliation and sadness pricked at Dennis’ eyes.  “Is that why you wanted to see me?  To tell me you don’t want me around anymore?”

Smiling slightly, Hanson shook his head.  “No Booker, I still want you around.  You were the only one who knew something was wrong when I came out of Riverbend and you were the only one to check up on me.  I owe you a lot.”

“No you don’t,” Booker replied softly. “I let you down.”

“Don’t say that,” Tom murmured.  “You’ve done a lot for me.  I just need to know if you _liking_ me as more than a friend is gonna be difficult for you.  ‘Cause if it is, I’ll need to find somewhere else to live when I get released.  They don’t want me living on my own, at least not yet but if you really are happy for me to come—”

“Yes!” Booker exclaimed happily before shaking his head in confusion.  “I mean no!  I mean… no, it isn’t a problem, I’m happy just to be friends and yes, I really do want you to come live with me again.”

“Good,” Tom smiled wearily.  “I think they’ll ask you to attend some therapy sessions, just so you know—”

“Whatever it takes,” Dennis interrupted.  “I just want you to be well again Tommy.”

“Okay,” Hanson replied, his smile finally crinkling his eyes.  “I guess we have a plan.”

“I guess we do,” Booker replied happily.  Gazing at his friend, Dennis suddenly felt that in time, everything was going to be all right.

 


	13. In the Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: “Oh,” Booker replied, unable to think of anything comforting to say.  Minutes ticked by and an uneasy silence stretched out between them until Dennis suddenly spoke up.  “Damn it Hanson, I’m treading on eggshells here because they told me not to upset you!  But there are things I want to say, things I need to say.  I want you to come back and live with me.  I want you as my friend and I want to help you in any way I can.”_
> 
> _Turning his head slowly, Tom gazed deep into Booker’s eyes.  “Is that ‘cause you’ve got a crush on me?” he asked quietly._
> 
> _A hot red flush of embarrassment crept up Dennis’ face.  “Jesus,” he muttered. “Did Penhall tell you?”_
> 
> _Tom nodded.  “We’ve been speaking on the phone the last few days as part of my therapy.  He warned me that you would try and take advantage of me for your own needs.”_
> 
> _Tears of humiliation and sadness pricked at Dennis’ eyes.  “Is that why you wanted to see me?  To tell me you don’t want me around anymore?”_
> 
> _Smiling slightly, Hanson shook his head.  “No Booker, I still want you around.  You were the only one who knew something was wrong when I came out of Riverbend and you were the only one to check up on me.  I owe you a lot.”_
> 
> _“No you don’t,” Booker replied softly. “I let you down.”_
> 
> _“Don’t say that,” Tom murmured.  “You’ve done a lot for me.  I just need to know if you liking me as more than a friend is gonna be difficult for you.  ‘Cause if it is, I’ll need to find somewhere else to live when I get released.  They don’t want me living on my own, at least not yet and if you really are happy for me to come—”_
> 
> _“Yes!” Booker exclaimed happily before shaking his head in confusion.  “I mean no!  I mean… no, it isn’t a problem, I’m happy just to be friends and yes, I really do want you to come live with me again.”_
> 
> _“Good,” Tom smiled wearily.  “I think they’ll ask you to attend some therapy sessions, just so you know—”_
> 
> _“Whatever it takes,” Dennis interrupted.  “I just want you to be well again Tommy.”_
> 
> _“Okay,” Hanson replied, his smile finally crinkling his eyes.  “I guess we have a plan.”_
> 
> _“I guess we do,” Booker replied happily.  Gazing at his friend, Dennis suddenly felt that in time, everything was going to be all right._

**In the Light**  

Tom’s release was not as simple as signing a few forms.  The first step was a meeting with Tom’s doctor, with Hanson present, so they could discuss his medications and ongoing therapy.  On the day of the appointment, Booker arrived at The Chapel early.  Since visiting Hanson, he had not revealed to any of his colleagues that Tom had made contact.  He assumed Penhall knew, as he and Tom were speaking regularly on the phone.   However, as all the Jump Street officers were still giving him the silent treatment, Dennis did not feel inclined to disclose his and Hanson’s plans.  

Seeing that his Captain was already in his office, Booker hesitantly knocked on the door.  “Enter!” Fuller barked, his mood black after a breakfast meeting with his superiors.  When he saw Dennis enter his office, he let out an audible sigh as he shuffled through some paperwork.  “If this is about you getting back into the field Booker, you can save your breath.  You’re to remain on desk duty until June.  No arguments.”

“It’s not about that,” Dennis replied, taking a seat and giving his superior an unwavering look.  “I don’t know if you’re aware Coach, but I’ve been to see Tom.”

Fuller’s hand stilled.  “I’d heard.  What’s you point?”

Booker took a deep breath.  “Hanson’s agreed to come and live with me when he’s released, so I’m asking to take leave without pay so I can stay home with him and help him settle back into some kind of normality.”

Leaning back in his chair, Fuller tented his fingers underneath his chin and gave Dennis a hard stare.  “For how long?” 

Dennis’ eyes remained locked on his Captain’s.  “For as long as it takes,” he replied coolly.  When Fuller did not reply, Booker sighed heavily.  “C’mon Coach, I’m doing nothing sitting around here day after day.  If you won’t do it for me, do it for Hanson.”

Fuller’s expression softened slightly.  “I want you back after summer break, no excuses.  Understood?”

“Understood,” Booker replied softly.  Standing up, he walked towards the door, before suddenly stopping and turning back around.  “Thanks Cap’n.”

Adam gave a slight nod of his head.  “Just make sure you do the right thing by Hanson and if you need help, for Christ’s sake, ask for it.”

Dennis gave a half smile.  “Don’t worry Coach, I learnt my lesson the hard way,” he murmured, before turning on his heel and leaving The Chapel.

**

Sitting in Doctor Haverland’s office, Booker cast a nervous glance at Tom.  The doctor had spent forty minutes talking and during most of that time, Hanson had sat with his eyes downcast, staring vacantly at his lap.  Haverland had taken time to discuss the importance of Hanson continuing to take his antidepressants and that it was crucial that he visit his psychologist weekly to continue their discussion on what had happened at Riverbend.  He also encouraged Tom to keep up the physiotherapy on his hands, in the hope that he would gain more movement in his fingers.  When asked if he had any questions, Dennis had quizzed Haverland extensively about the therapy Tom had received inside Brentwood and was relieved when the doctor talked about the various difficulties Tom had encountered during his stay but did not mention any other suicide attempts whilst he had been receiving treatment.  Booker also asked about how much help Tom would need because of the restrictions with his hands and the doctor told him that it would be extensive.  Tom could not shower, dress or feed himself without help.  Dennis nodded slowly as he took in everything he was told.  Because he had focused on Tom’s mental health, he had not realized the extent of his friend’s physical disabilities.  But it made no difference to him how much work looking after Hanson would be, he wanted to be the one to do it.  Lastly, Booker brought up the HIV blood test that the hospital had administered weeks ago.  When the doctor had rung his apartment looking to speak to Tom so he could discuss the results, Dennis had advised him to pass the information on to Brentwood.  When Haverland told him that the results were negative, Booker gave an audible sigh of relief.  It was another piece of positive news to help Tom with his recovery.

As the discussion drew to an end, Doctor Haverland addressed Hanson. “Are you sure you are comfortable going home with Mr. Booker, Tom?  There are other arrangements we can make if you would prefer, such as a carer living in residence with you or moving into a group home.”

Tom lifted his eyes and gave a half smile.  “I’m sure,” he murmured softly.

“Very good,” the doctor replied.  “I’m recommending two sessions for you both to attend with the psychologist and once I have his report, we can look towards setting a date for your discharge.”

Booker gave Tom an encouraging smile.  “Not long now Tommy,” he said quietly.

Hanson did not reply.  Instead, he once again dropped his gaze as though talking about his release might prevent it from happening.

**

Hanson and Booker sat opposite each other in Doctor Jarrod Lewis’ expensively decorated office.  Lewis sat off to the side, a notebook in his lap and his pen poised dramatically above it.  He read his notes before continuing with the session.  “So Tom, let’s go back to when you first knew you were going to be raped.  Tell Dennis how it made you feel.”

Sensing Tom’s discomfort, Booker immediately interjected.  “Is that really necessary?  If Tom doesn’t want to tell me about what happened to him he doesn’t have to.”

The psychologist sighed in annoyance.  “ _Mister_ Booker.  As we have discussed previously, it is imperative that Tom can openly express what is troubling him to the person who is going to be closest to him and _that_ Mr. Booker, is you.  He must be able to feel that he can trust you with his darkest secrets because if he cannot, he will never see the light.  Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Booker mumbled, still not happy with the way the doctor was conducting his therapy.  But he knew he had no choice but to shut his mouth and let Lewis run the session his way, otherwise Tom might not get released.

“Tom?” Doctor Lewis prompted.  “Please begin.”

Hanson shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  For a second his fingers hovered over his bandaged arm but he quickly dropped his hand into his lap.  “Um, I was scared,” he murmured in a low voice, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“Very good Tom, but I need you to be more specific.  Tell Dennis exactly what happened after the boys came into your room.”

Tom’s eyes darted upwards for a fraction of a moment before again staring at the floor.  “They pulled me from my bed,” he whispered. “Several of them held me bent over the sink and something sharp was jabbed against my throat.  _He_ told me I was pretty, just like Ricky Green and that I was to be his bitch.”  Tom’s breathing became heavy and Booker felt his hands balling into fists as he watched his friend struggle to keep going.  “I um, I struggled but they held me so tightly I couldn’t get away.  I begged them not to but then… but then… someone pulled down my boxers and I could feel him… I could feel him pushing against me and—”

 _“ENOUGH!”_ Dennis yelled, jumping to his feet.  Ignoring the doctor, he dropped to his knees in front of Hanson.  “You don’t have to do this Tommy,” he said softly as he gently lifted Tom’s face so their eyes could meet.  “I don’t want you to relive the pain just because some doctor tells you its _therapy_.  If you’re not comfortable, we’ll find another doctor.”

Tears filled Tom’s eyes.  “I want to go home,” he whispered as the tears slowly spilled over and trickled down his cheeks.  

Booker spun around to face Doctor Lewis.  “For God’s sake, can’t you see that this isn’t helping him!”

Lewis stared at his notes.  “I’m sorry Mr. Booker, but I’m the one with a degree in psychology.  If you want to help your friend you need to listen to what I have to say.”

Turning back to Hanson, Booker laid a hand on his knee.  “It’s up to you Tommy.  If you don’t want to continue, we find another way.  Whatever you want, okay?”

Lifting his head, Tom stared deep into Dennis’ dark eyes.  “I felt him Booker, pushing against me,” he muttered. “And then he was inside me and it hurt _so_ much and he reached around and… Oh God Dennis… he was trying to get me hard but I didn’t and he was thrusting and the shiv was digging into my neck and everyone was laughing and then… and then he came and I felt it inside me and… and…” Tom did not continue as he burst into loud wracking sobs and his body trembled violently.  Booker threw his arms around Hanson and held him close, murmuring comforting words in his ear.  

Many minutes later, Tom’s sobbing became less intense and Dennis turned his head and addressed Lewis who was furiously writing in his notepad.  “Are you fucking happy now?” he spat, not caring if he offended the man sitting in front of him.

The doctor smiled smugly.  “Tom did a wonderful job, I’m very proud of him.  One more successful session and I think he will be ready to go home.”

“Good,” Dennis snapped back. “Because the sooner I get him away from _you_ , the better, he’ll be.” 

Lewis stood up and towered over Booker and Tom.  “You seem to be forgetting something Mr. Booker.  Tom and I will continue our sessions on a weekly basis after he has been discharged from Brentwood.”

“We’ll see,” Dennis muttered angrily, as he stroked Tom’s hair.  “We’ll see.”  



	14. You Shook Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Many minutes later, Tom’s sobbing became less intense and Dennis turned his head and addressed Lewis who was furiously writing in his notepad.  “Are you fucking happy now?” he spat, not caring if he offended the man sitting in front of him._
> 
> _The doctor smiled smugly.  “Tom did a wonderful job, I’m very proud of him.  One more successful session and I think he will be ready to go home.”_
> 
> _“Good,” Dennis snapped back. “Because the sooner I get him away from you, the better, he’ll be.”_
> 
> _Lewis stood up and towered over Booker and Tom.  “You seem to be forgetting something Mr. Booker.  Tom and I will continue our sessions on a weekly basis after he has been discharged from Brentwood.”_
> 
> _“We’ll see,” Dennis muttered angrily, as he stroked Tom’s hair.  “We’ll see.”_

**You Shook Me**  

A week later and Booker was once again sitting with Tom in Doctor Lewis’ office.  They were now only one step away from Tom’s release but Dennis knew the therapy session would not be easy if their last meeting was anything to go by.  Hanson stared quietly at the floor, seemingly unwilling to make eye contact with either Booker or the doctor.  For a fleeting moment, Dennis wondered if Tom really was ready to leave the sanctuary of Brentwood but he quickly pushed the thought aside.  Although he did not trust Jarrod Lewis, he did trust Doctor Haverland’s judgment and therefore as much as he was dreading it, he was ready to participate in the final psychotherapy session so the _powers that be_ could tick all the bureaucratic boxes and he could finally take Tom home.

Lewis picked up his pen and smiled at Hanson.  “Now Tom, today I would like you to talk to Dennis about the final rapes.”

Tom lifted his damaged arm and rubbed awkwardly at his top lip with his fingers.  “Okay,” he whispered, his eyes engaging Dennis’ briefly before looking away.

“No Tom,” the doctor admonished quietly.  “I need you to make eye contact with Dennis when you speak.”

Hanson immediately lifted his gaze and gave Booker a small, sad smile.  “You might look at me differently when you hear this,” he murmured softly.

Standing up, Booker pulled his chair closer so his knees were touching Tom’s.  “No I won’t Tommy.  Whatever happened to you in there was _not_ your fault.  You did what you had to do to survive.”

“Maybe,” Hanson muttered. “But maybe I could have done more.”

Dennis took a moment to think about his answer before replying.  “My grandmother used to say that hindsight was a wonderful thing.  We can all look back and wish we’d done things differently but that’s not reality Tom.  You coped in the only way you knew how to at the time.  So don’t beat yourself up over it and for God’s sake don’t think that I’m going to judge you in any way.  I can’t even imagine what you went through and I sure as hell don’t know how _I_ would have coped.”

“Very well said Mr. Booker,” Lewis stated in a somewhat disparaging manner.  “I’m sure Tom will take great comfort from your words.”

Dennis shot the doctor a withering look before focusing his attention back on Tom.  “Are you ready?”

Hanson nodded.  Taking a deep breath, he gazed into Booker’s accepting brown eyes.  “I knew they would come, Fuller had been in to see me and it was my last night there.  I was so depressed by then that half the time I didn’t even remember I was a cop.  It was like a thick fog was clouding my mind and I was on autopilot, eating, sleeping, going to class but not really aware of what was going on around me.  Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes,” Dennis answered softly. “You were in a living nightmare.”

“Exactly,” Tom exhaled, the relief showing on his face.  “So when they came, I was too numb to care anymore.  I just wanted it over, I just wanted to go home.”  Hanson paused for a moment as he chewed anxiously on his lower lip.

“It’s okay Tommy,” Booker encouraged, wanting the session to end but knowing he had to let Tom speak at his own pace.  “Take your time.”

Nervously licking his lips, Hanson continued.  “ _He_ started to touch me, to stroke me and… and this time my body reacted.”

Booker could not keep the shock from his eyes but he quickly pulled himself together.  The last thing Tom needed was to see how shaken he was by the admission.  Placing a hand on Tom’s thigh, he gave a small smile.  “Keep going.”

Tom’s breathing became more rapid and his gaze pleaded with Booker to understand.  “I couldn’t help it!” he cried softly, as a single tear slid down his cheek.  “Part of me was switched off but the other part could still feel.”  When Booker did not answer, Hanson continued, this time more quietly. “He dropped his trousers and boxers and told me to kneel down, he said he wanted to spice things up.”

Knowing exactly what was coming, Dennis felt his stomach lurch and he had to use all his willpower to maintain an impassive expression.  He was not being judgmental, he just had not expected Tom to behave in such a manner.  But he knew it was wrong of him to feel that way as he had no idea how he himself would react if put in a similar situation.

Hanson was more aware than Booker realized and sensing Dennis’ shock, he quickly broke eye contact and looked down at the floor.  He was therefore surprised to feel Booker’s fingers gently push his long bangs away from his eyes.  “Look at me,” Dennis instructed tenderly.  Hanson slowly lifted his head and met Booker’s kind eyes.  “I’m sorry, I admit it, I’m a little shocked but not because I think you reacted badly but because until now, I didn’t really understand what kind of hell you went through.”

Tom managed a shy smile.  “It’s weird.  Now that I’m talking about it to you I kind of feel like I don’t have to be ashamed anymore.”

And just like that, everything snapped into place for Booker.  Turning around, he saw Jarrod Lewis smiling broadly.  “Do you now understand why these sessions were so important Mr. Booker?” the doctor asked somewhat smugly.

Although Dennis did not like the man, he could now identify with his method of therapy.  By having Tom open up to him, they had developed a bond of trust, something that Hanson had struggled with since his superiors had failed him by not checking on his welfare whilst he was in Riverbend.  An embarrassed smile played across Booker’s lips.  “I do,” he replied softly. “And I apologize.”

Lewis nodded in approval.  “Very good.  Now Tom, would you like to leave it for today or do you think you can keep going.”

Raising his head, Tom looked confident for the first time in weeks.  “I’ll keep going… I want to go home.”

“Excellent!” Lewis replied as he started scribbling in his notebook.  “Please continue.”

Hanson closed his eyes as if he was trying to remember the final ordeal.  After several moments, he opened them and stared directly at Booker.  “So I knelt down,” he continued in a quiet, calm voice. “And I sucked him off.  But only for a minute ‘cause I guess he didn’t want to come, at least not then.  I remember choking when he thrust too deep into my throat and I think he made some kind of comment about my gag reflex.  When he released me, he took me over to the bed and told me to lie down.  Then he asked the others if he should make me scream or let me stay silent.  Someone said they liked it when I screamed but _he_ said he wanted to treat me nice ‘cause it was my last night but everyone could take a turn and do as they pleased.  He had some kind of lotion and put it on me before covering himself.  It made it less painful when he entered me.  Then, whilst he was… you know… he started to touch me and the small part of my mind that could still feel must have liked it ‘cause I came.  Then he started thrusting harder and he climaxed and then someone else took his place but I don’t really remember the rest of them or what they did and then it was over and they left.”

When Tom finished speaking, tears spilled from Booker’s eyes.  “Oh Tommy!” he cried and reaching over, he wrapped his arms around Hanson.  After several seconds, he felt Tom’s damaged arms clumsily holding him close and they both wept openly, one from immense sadness at the horror his friend had suffered and the other from the relief he felt at disclosing intimate information about his assaults and not being judged.

Jarrod Lewis looked on with a satisfied smile.  It had not been an easy case and he knew Tom needed many more hours of therapy to help him deal with the pain and humiliation that he had endured.  But he felt confident that with Dennis Booker by his side, Tom was ready to leave the Brentwood Psychiatric Facility and start to assimilate back into the real world.

Closing his notebook, the doctor stood up.  “I’ll write up my report to Doctor Haverland.  Pack your bags Tom, you’re going home."  



	15. Baby Come On Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Hanson closed his eyes as if he was trying to remember the final ordeal.  After several moments, he opened them and stared directly at Booker.  “So I knelt down,” he continued in a quiet, calm voice. “And I sucked him off.  But only for a minute ‘cause I guess he didn’t want to come, at least not then.  I remember choking when he thrust too deep into my throat and I think he made some kind of comment about my gag reflex.  When he released me, he took me over to the bed and told me to lie down.  Then he asked the others if he should make me scream or let me stay silent.  Someone said they liked it when I screamed but he said he wanted to treat me nice ‘cause it was my last night but everyone could take a turn and do as they pleased.  He had some kind of lotion and put it on me before covering himself.  It made it less painful when he entered me.  Then, whilst he was… you know… he started to touch me and the small part of my mind that could still feel must have liked it ‘cause I came.  Then he started thrusting harder and he climaxed and then someone else took his place but I don’t really remember the rest of them or what they did and then it was over and they left.”_
> 
> _When Tom finished speaking, tears spilled from Booker’s eyes.  “Oh Tommy!” he cried and reaching over, he wrapped his arms around Hanson.  After several seconds, he felt Tom’s damaged arms clumsily holding him close and they both wept openly, one from immense sadness at the horror his friend had suffered and the other from the relief he felt at disclosing intimate information about his assaults and not being judged._
> 
> _Jarrod Lewis looked on with a satisfied smile.  It had not been an easy case and he knew Tom needed many more hours of therapy to help him deal with the pain and humiliation that he had endured.  But he felt confident that with Dennis Booker by his side, Tom was ready to leave the Brentwood Psychiatric Facility and start to assimilate back into the real world._
> 
> _Closing his notebook, the doctor stood up.  “I’ll write up my report to Doctor Haverland.  Pack your bags Tom, you’re going home."_

**Baby Come On Home**  

Sitting in the administration area of the Brentwood Psychiatric Facility, Booker’s leg jiggled nervously.  He checked his watch for the umpteenth time before standing up and pacing back and forth across the blue-carpeted floor.  He had been waiting over forty-five minutes for the _powers that be_ to rubber stamp Hanson’s discharge papers and he was becoming increasingly impatient at the time it was taking.  Just as he was about to speak to the supervising nurse, a door opened and Tom walked out, accompanied by a burly security guard.

“Damn, that seemed to take forever,” Booker joked lightly as he took Hanson’s bag and a manila folder from the guard.  “How long does it take to sign a few papers?”

Hanson smiled but his pale face wore an expression of fatigue.  “They wanted to take some more blood for the follow up STD tests,” he replied quietly.  “You know, just to make sure.”

Dennis nodded.  “Of course, Doctor Haverland mentioned something about that.  So, are you ready to go?”

Looking slightly uncertain, Tom gave a half smile.  “I guess.”

As they walked out into the bright afternoon sun, Tom instinctively shielded his eyes with his arm.  Booker silently wondered how long Tom would have to wear the cumbersome splints that protected his arms and hands whilst his tendons healed.  Arriving at his car, Dennis tossed Tom’s bag into the trunk before unlocking the passenger door.  Tom lowered his himself onto the seat and then swung his legs around so he was sitting correctly.  Bending down, Booker strapped the seat belt across Hanson’s body and clicked it into place.  As he closed the door, Dennis realized how many small things he was going to have to do on a daily basis for Tom.  Not that he minded but now that Hanson was his responsibility, the reality of the situation became much clearer.  

As they drove through the city streets, Tom stared silently out of the window.  Booker did not attempt to engage him in idle chitchat, as he feared overwhelming him.  Hanson had spent over six weeks in a controlled environment and Dennis knew it would take time for him to settle back into _normal_ life.  Pulling into his apartment car space, Booker switched off the engine.  Tom sat patiently until Dennis unbuckled his seat belt and gently helped him out of the car.  Booker grabbed Tom’s bag and they caught the lift up to the apartment. 

Unlocking the door, Dennis let Tom enter first so he could lock the door behind him.  Turning back around, he saw Tom standing in the middle of the living area and his heart ached at the sight.  He thought Tom looked thin and vulnerable compared to the Hanson of old.  Walking over, he laid a comforting hand on Tom’s shoulder.  “Hey,” he murmured. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m tired,” Hanson muttered quietly. “Maybe I’ll lie down for a while.”

Booker carried Tom’s bag into the bedroom and dropped it on the floor.  “Sit on the bed so I can take your boots and socks off,” he instructed.  Tom did as his friend asked and Booker knelt on the floor and unlaced Hanson's Doc Martin boots and pulled them off, followed by his socks.  “Do you want to undress?” Dennis asked, as he gazed into Tom’s dark eyes.  He felt a physical stab in his heart when a single tear trickled down Hanson’s pale cheek.  “Oh Tommy, what’s wrong?” he asked tenderly, cupping Tom’s face in his hand.

“I’m a burden,” Hanson sobbed. “You shouldn’t have to do this.”

Stroking Tom’s cheek with his thumb, Booker smiled softly.  “I _want_ to do this Tommy otherwise I wouldn’t have offered.”  When Hanson did not reply, Dennis gently helped him to his feet.  “C’mon, let me get you out of your jeans, you’ll be more comfortable.”  

Tom stood silently as Booker unbuttoned and then unzipped his jeans, letting the fabric fall to the floor.  Stepping out of the denims, Hanson stood by as Dennis pulled back the covers on the bed.  Sitting down, he swung his legs up and lay down on his side facing Booker.  As Dennis pulled up the covers, Tom closed his eyes and fell into an exhausted sleep.

**

The television droned quietly in the background as Dennis read through the notes Doctor Haverland had sent home with Tom.  There were instructions concerning his antidepressant medication and the name of the physiotherapist who would be working with Hanson to try to achieve better movement in his fingers and hands.  A piece of paper with diagrams showed exercises that Tom could do at home to help strengthen his grip.  A typed list of scheduled appointments with Doctor Lewis was on a separate piece of paper.  Standing up, Booker tiptoed into the bedroom and picked up Tom’s bag.  After quickly checking that Hanson was still asleep, he returned to the living area and sat back down.  Unzipping the bag, he pulled out a plastic Ziploc bag containing an orange vial of tablets and a written prescription.  The rest of the bag contained a toothbrush, toothpaste, shower gel, shampoo and a single change of clothes.  Margaret Hanson obviously did not think her son needed much whilst in Brentwood and Booker’s fists clenched in anger.  According to Tom, his mother was not prepared to forgive him for sinning against God and had therefore, decided that she would not be visiting in the near future.  Booker had a hard time understanding religion and he could not believe that if there were a God, he would condone a mother abandoning her son in his time of need.  Sighing, he stood up and went into the kitchen.  Placing Tom’s medication and prescription into a cupboard, he stuck the list of appointments and the exercise diagrams on the refrigerator.  Grabbing a beer, he was about to sit down when someone knocked.  Opening the door, Booker’s expression hardened when he saw Doug and Harry standing in the hallway.  “What do you want?” he asked coldly.

Penhall gave his trademark lopsided smile.  “C’mon Booker, don’t be like that.  We want to know how Tom is.”

“He’s fine,” Dennis replied, immediately starting to shut the door but Doug stuck out his foot, preventing it from closing.

“We’d like to see him Dennis,” Penhall said in a calm voice.  “You can’t keep him from us.”

Booker let out an indignant laugh.  “ _Me_ keep him from _you!_   Nice one Penhall.  If I remember correctly, it was _you_ trying to keep Tom from _me!_   You couldn’t wait to tell him I had feelings for him could you?  But I guess it backfired ‘cause Hanson still chose to trust _me_ to take care of him and I bet that just burns you up.”

“Calm down Booker,” Ioki interceded.  “We just want to see if Tom’s okay.”

Turning his attention to Harry, Dennis gave him a cold glare.  “And I told you he’s fine.  And if you cared so much about him, where the hell were you and Judy when Tom was spiraling out of control?  You were sitting around The Chapel bitching about how Hanson could never ask anyone for help.  Well guess what?  He _is_ asking for help… from _me!”_

When Ioki looked like he was about to punch Booker in the face, Penhall laid a calming hand on his arm.  “Don’t,” he instructed before turning back to Dennis.  “Okay Booker, you’ve made your point.  But I think it should be up to Tommy to decide who he sees and who he doesn’t, so maybe you can tell him we dropped by, okay?’

Booker thought about it for a moment before nodding his head, when Doug stepped away, he slammed the door closed.  He knew Penhall was right, it was not up to him to decide who Tom stayed in contact with but it pissed him off that no one at Jump Street had made any effort to help Hanson through the most difficult days of his life.  Flopping back onto the couch, he picked up the remote and scanned through the channels until he found a hockey game.  Settling back, he switched his mind off from all of Tom’s troubles and for a couple of hours he lost himself in the game.

**

As he sat watching the evening news, Dennis heard an odd banging sound behind him.  Turning his head, he looked around the room in puzzlement, trying to find out where the noise was coming from.  Cursing loudly, he jumped up off the couch and ran over to the bedroom door.  After checking on Tom the last time, he had inadvertently closed the door.  With the splints covering his hands and arms, Hanson could not turn the doorknob.  “Stand back Tommy,” he called out as he carefully pushed open the door.  

Hanson stood in the middle of the room, jigging from foot to foot.  “I need to go to the bathroom,” he said, the urgency evident on his face.

“Do you need help?” Booker asked, stepping out of the way as Hanson ran past.

“No!” Tom called out before entering the bathroom.  Booker could not help but smile when he heard a steady stream through the open door.  Several moments later, the toilet flushed and Tom reemerged wearing an embarrassed grin.  “That was close.”

“Sorry,” Booker laughed. “I need to remember not to shut doors.”  Studying Tom’s face, he thought his friend looked more relaxed and less tired.  “Um, Penhall and Harry came by earlier to see how you are.”

Tom’s expression immediately became impassive.  “Oh?  Okay.”

Deciding to forgive past transgressions, Booker found himself defending the two officers.  “They’re worried about you.”

“Really? “ Tom snapped. “Because I get the feeling they don’t really give a damn about me.” 

Booker was surprised at the venom in Hanson’s voice.  He thought that Tom and Doug had repaired their friendship through the several _therapy_ phone calls they had made over the last few weeks.  “You’re wrong Tommy, they _do_ care and I think it would be a big step in your recovery if you could find it in your heart to forgive them.”

Hanson looked slightly uncomfortable.  He was holding onto the hatred he felt for his colleagues for abandoning him in Riverbend without any contact or support.  Penhall had been his best friend since he joined the Jump Street program and he really could not imagine his life without him.  His feelings for Harry and Judy were less extreme, but he had always valued their friendship.  Exhaling loudly, he gave Booker a resigned look.  “Fine.  If they drop by again I’ll talk to them.”

Smiling, Booker looked at the clock.  “Hungry?” he asked, when he saw the time.

Tom thought about it for a moment.  “Yeah I am,” he decided.

“What do you feel like?” Booker asked, as he started rummaging through his pantry to see what he could offer.

“Pizza,” Tom suggested, holding up his arms.  “I can eat that without help.”

Closing the pantry door, Dennis walked over to Hanson.  “I don’t want you to be worrying about that,” he said softly, his mind casting back to Harry’s comment about Tom never asking for assistance.  “If you need help with _anything_ I want you to ask.  I don’t really know what you can and can’t do and I don’t want to be hovering over you like an over protective moth—” About to say mother, Dennis immediately stopped speaking, his face flushing pink at his thoughtless blunder.

“It’s okay Dennis,” Tom assured him quietly.  “My mom’s always been that way so I’m not upset by her reaction.  If she wants to choose her God over me, so be it.”

“Oh,” Booker replied, unable to believe that a mother would do that.  His own parents were so loving and supportive, it was forever a surprise when he witnessed the contrary.  Grinning, he picked up the phone.  “Do you like pepperoni?” he asked, effectively changing the subject away from Hanson’s mom.  

“Whatever you like,” Tom replied with a smile.  As Dennis phoned through their order, Tom wandered around the room looking at the small number of personal items that were scattered on various surfaces.  When he had last been in Booker’s home, he had been too depressed to pay much notice to his surroundings.  Stopping at the bookcase beside the door, he stared at a photograph of Booker standing next to a tall, handsome, fair-haired man.  Dressed in ski suits, the men had their arms around each other whilst holding onto their skis.  Both looked relaxed and happy and Hanson suddenly realized that he knew _nothing_ about Dennis’ personal life.  When he heard Booker hang up the phone, he nodded towards the picture.  “Who’s that?” he asked.

A sad smile played over Dennis’ lips.  “That’s Ben, he was my last boyfriend.”

Tom studied the photo again before turning back to Booker.  “How long did you date?” he inquired curiously.

“Two years, give or take,” Booker replied, walking over to Tom and picking up the picture.  He trailed a finger over the glass.  “He was really special.”

“What happened?” Tom asked softly, touched by the love shining out of Booker’s dark eyes.

Placing the photo back on the shelf, Booker turned away.  “He died,” he replied quietly.  “Drunk driver.”

“Oh Jesus Dennis, I’m sorry,” Tom muttered, feeling terrible for asking.

Giving Hanson a small smile, Booker sighed heavily.  “It’s okay, it was a year ago, I’ve learned to live with it.”

Thinking back, Tom realized that Dennis had joined the Jump Street program only six months after his lover had died.  He immediately felt ashamed of the way he had tried to isolate Booker from the rest of the officers because he had not trusted him.   Through experience, Tom knew how soul destroying it was to feel completely alone and he wished he had offered Dennis the hand of friendship instead of pushing him away all those months ago.  Hesitating for just a moment, Tom placed his arms awkwardly around Dennis’ waist and gave him a light squeeze.  “I’m sorry about Ben and I’m sorry I wasn’t nicer to you when we first met.”

Tears glistened in Booker’s eyes and he returned the hug.  “The past is the past,” he murmured. “It’s the present that’s important.”

As he rested his head on Dennis’ shoulder, Tom marveled at how completely comfortable it felt to have Dennis Booker’s arms wrapped protectively around him.  



	16. I Can't Quit You Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Stopping at the bookcase beside the door, he stared at a photograph of Booker standing next to a tall, handsome, fair-haired man.  Dressed in ski suits, the men had their arms around each other whilst holding onto their skis.  Both looked relaxed and happy and Hanson suddenly realized that he knew nothing about Dennis’ personal life.  When he heard Booker hang up the phone, he nodded towards the picture.  “Who’s that?” he asked._
> 
> _A sad smile played over Dennis’ lips.  “That’s Ben, he was my last boyfriend.”_
> 
> _Tom studied the photo again before turning back to Booker.  “How long did you date?” he inquired curiously._
> 
> _“Two years, give or take,” Booker replied, walking over to Tom and picking up the picture.  He trailed a finger over the glass.  “He was really special.”_
> 
> _“What happened?” Tom asked softly, touched by the love shining out of Booker’s dark eyes._
> 
> _Placing the photo back on the shelf, Booker turned away.  “He died,” he replied quietly.  “Drunk driver.”_
> 
> _“Oh Jesus Dennis, I’m sorry,” Tom muttered, feeling terrible for asking._
> 
> _Giving Hanson a small smile, Booker sighed heavily.  “It’s okay, it was a year ago, I’ve learned to live with it.”_
> 
> _Thinking back, Tom realized that Dennis had joined the Jump Street program only six months after his lover had died.  He immediately felt ashamed of the way he had tried to isolate Booker from the rest of the officers because he had not trusted him.   Through experience, Tom knew how soul destroying it was to feel completely alone and he wished he had offered Dennis the hand of friendship instead of pushing him away all those months ago.  Hesitating for just a moment, Tom placed his arms awkwardly around Dennis’ waist and gave him a light squeeze.  “I’m sorry about Ben and I’m sorry I wasn’t nicer to you when we first met.”_
> 
> _Tears glistened in Booker’s eyes and he returned the hug.  “The past is the past,” he murmured. “It’s the present that’s important.”_
> 
> _As he rested his head on Dennis’ shoulder, Tom marveled at how completely comfortable it felt to have Dennis Booker’s arms wrapped protectively around him._

**I Can't Quit You Baby**  

Even though Tom had slept for most of the afternoon, both he and Booker went to bed early.  They had a disrupted sleep as Tom woke several times throughout the night.  The first few times were because of the discomfort from the arm splints but the last time was from a devastating nightmare that had him screaming hysterically before waking up drenched in sweat.  As Booker gently consoled him, he cast a glance at the clock and saw that it was almost 5am.  Sweeping Tom’s sweaty hair back from his face, he gave him a tender smile.  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Sniffing loudly, Tom nodded and tried to wipe his tear-stained face with his damaged arm.  Booker gently intervened by using his thumb to lovingly brush away the salty tears that trickled down Tom’s soft skin.  “Do you want to shower and freshen up?  You can always go back to bed afterwards,” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” Tom replied quietly. “But um, I’m going to need some help.”

Dennis climbed out of bed and waited for Tom to stand up.  Unstrapping the arm splints, he carefully unwound the two thick, white bandages.  After removing the gauze, Booker bit down hard on his lower lip to contain his distress.  The damage to Tom’s inner arms was extensive.  A raised, angry red scar ran from elbow to wrist down both forearms.  Smaller scars from cigarette burns and the self-mutilation peppered the remaining flesh.  The injuries were so extensive that Booker knew the scars would never completely fade and that they would be a permanent reminder to Tom for the rest of his life.

“Pretty grim huh?” Tom murmured as he took in Booker’s shocked gaze.  

In a trance, Booker trailed his finger lightly up and down the long scar on Tom’s left arm.  “Does it hurt?” he asked, unable to take his eyes off the angry, red weal.

Tom’s breathing became heavy and a shiver of pleasure ran down his spine as he shook his head.  It had been so long since someone had touched him so tenderly.  He had received comforting touches and strokes from Booker before but not like this.  The intimacy of Dennis finger gently caressing his scar was electrifying and for the first time since his attack, he felt a stirring in his groin.   Confusion clouded his mind and he swiftly yanked his arm away.  The movement pulled Booker out of his daze and he stared at Tom with wide eyes.  “Oh jeez Tommy, I didn’t mean anything!” he exclaimed quickly, worried that he had overstepped the boundaries of their friendship.

Staring back in bewilderment, Hanson’s breathing remained rapid.  “I…” was all he could manage before he hurriedly exited the bedroom.  Sitting back on the edge of the bed, Booker held his head in his hands and cursed inwardly.  He had not meant to unnerve Tom with the intimacy of his touch; it was just that he was mesmerized that the jagged wound could have ultimately been responsible for draining the life’s blood from Hanson’s body.  It was a slap in the face wake up call as to how fragile the human existence really was and at the age of twenty-two, Dennis suddenly became aware of his own mortality.

**

Hanson sat on the couch with his knees drawn up.  The TV remote lay loosely in his right hand as he attempted to press the tiny button with his thumb in an effort to switch the unit on.  Since he had started spending time with Booker and seen his true nature, Tom had found his new friend was never far from his thoughts.  He felt perplexed by the depths of his feelings towards his colleague and he was not sure if it was gratitude or something more.  When Doctor Lewis told him he could finally have a friend to visit him in Brentwood, the first name that sprang to mind was Booker’s and not Penhall’s as he would have expected.  He and Doug had been through a lot together as working partners and best friends and yet it was the man who he barely knew that was always foremost in his mind.  He had considered speaking to his psychologist about it but he felt too embarrassed, given his circumstances.  It seemed ludicrous to Hanson that after he had suffered prolonged, violent rapes, that he might now have feelings for another man.  He had never been attracted to men before but there was something very different about Booker, something that subtly drew him in.  He wondered if subconsciously, that was why he had been so distant and unfriendly when they had first met.  Maybe his subliminal mind knew that he was attracted to the handsome, tough looking cop and had tried to steer him gently away from his homosexual feelings.  Shaking his head slightly, Tom began to wonder if he had spent too much time in therapy.

Several minutes passed before Dennis walked into the living room. He gently took the remote out of Hanson’s hand and pushed the red button.  The television flickered to life and a woman’s face appeared on the screen as she read the early morning news.  Sitting down, Booker tossed the controller onto the coffee table.  “I’m sorry,” he sighed sadly.  “I really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Turning his head, Tom gazed at Booker quizzically.  “When did you know you were gay?” he asked bluntly.

Dennis’ face reddened.  “Um, technically I’m not,” he replied, chewing on his lower lip self-consciously.  “I’m bi-sexual, I like both sexes.”

Tom sighed impatiently.  “But when did you know you liked _men?_ ” he pressed, too caught up in his own thoughts to care if he was being impertinent. 

Pushing back his hair, Dennis thought about Tom’s question.  “I don’t know, middle school maybe.  Or maybe I always knew.  It’s not an easy question to answer Tom.”

Hanson dropped his eyes whilst he thought about Booker’s answer.  Lifting his head, he once again meant Dennis gaze.  “And you like _me_ in that way,” he stated quietly.

“Tom…” Booker pleaded before pausing and roughly rubbing his face with his hands.  “I said I was sorry, can we just drop it?”

When Hanson answered, his voice was barely audible.  “I felt something… something _stirred_ when you ran your finger across my scar.”

Booker’s heart felt like it was about to explode as his pulse rate quickened.  Trying to keep his voice steady, he gave Tom what he hoped was a reassuring smile.  “That doesn’t mean anything Tommy, you’ve been through a lot and it could just be because—”

“But maybe I felt something ‘cause I know you have feelings for me,” Tom persisted, unable to let the matter drop.  “Maybe I _wanted_ to feel something or maybe I _do_ feel something.”

Booker stood up, unable to believe what he was about to say.  "I’m sorry Tommy, but I’m starting to think that you living here isn’t such a good idea,” he whispered. “The last thing I want to do is cause you any more emotional upset.”

“You want me to _leave?_ ” Tom asked, wide-eyed with shock.

“ _No!_ ” Booker exclaimed as he started to pace back and forth across the floor in agitation.  “I don’t _want_ you to leave but damn it Hanson, I _won’t_ do anything to jeopardize your recovery.  I couldn’t live with myself if I caused you any undue stress but I can’t help the way I feel!  I think I started to fall in love with you the first time I met you.  I want to take care of you but I won’t always be able to hide my feelings and I don’t want to confuse you!  So maybe it would just be best if you went and lived with Penhall.”

Tom’s lower lip protruded into a soft pout.  “I don’t want to live with Penhall.  I want to live with you,” he sulked like a small child.

“Oh Jesus,” Dennis moaned quietly.  Tom looked so gorgeous that Booker could barely contain himself.  When Hanson gave him a cheeky grin, he knew he had lost the battle.  “Fucking hell Hanson, I hope you know what you’re doing,” he murmured, returning Tom’s smile.

Tom shrugged his shoulders.  “Not really, but I’m sure Doctor Lewis will take great delight in explaining it to me.”

Booker did not see the funny side of Hanson statement.  Although Hanson had hinted that there was a chance something might develop between them, Dennis did not see how it could possibly happen.  Tom’s first homosexual encounter had been violent, painful and terrifying.  Booker knew that any association could trigger an unwanted memory and send Tom’s fragile state mind spiraling out of control again.  He did not want to be responsible for any relapses that Hanson might have during the course of his recovery.  However, he also knew that deep down, he wanted an intimate relationship with Tom and that if Hanson made advances, he would find it extremely difficult to refuse him.

Seeing the conflict in Booker’s eyes, Tom let the matter drop.  “Maybe the shower can wait,” he suggested wisely.

“Good idea,” Dennis replied, the relief evident in his voice.  “How about breakfast?  Is oatmeal okay?”

Tom’s face flushed pink.  “I have a bit of trouble holding a spoon so…”

“So I help you,” Booker replied with a smile, glad that the conversation had returned to something he could cope with.  “Isn't that what I’m here for?”

A look of sadness washed over Tom’s face.  “Is _that_ why you think I need you?” he asked quietly.

Booker mentally kicked himself.  He had been so relieved that the sexual tension was over that he had flippantly suggested that he was nothing more than Tom’s carer.  “That’s not what I meant,” he replied quickly.

Tom’s brown eyes bore into Booker’s.  “I _need_ you because you’re my friend and without you, I wouldn’t be here.  I owe you my life Dennis, I want you to know that.”

Feeling tears pricking at his eyes, Booker hurriedly pulled his emotions in check.  “I know Tommy, but I want _you_ to know that I don’t mind helping you with things you have trouble with.  All you have to do is ask.”

Hanson gave a lopsided smile.  “Deal.  So, about the oatmeal…”

Booker laughed, grateful that the tension was once again broken.  “Are you saying you need me to _help_ you?” he asked.

Tom snorted with amusement.  “Yes, I need you to _help_ me,” he replied, all feelings of embarrassment now forgotten.  He watched as Dennis warmed milk in a saucepan and stirred through the oats before pouring it into a bowl.  Carrying it over to the couch, Booker sat down next to Hanson.  Just as Booker started to move a spoonful towards his mouth, Hanson stopped him.  “Wait.  Maybe we could try you helping me hold the spoon.”

“Okay,” Dennis replied, placing the spoon in Hanson’s fingers.  Tom’s grip was loose so Booker gently wrapped his own hand around Tom’s, holding the spoon in place.  “Ready?” he asked.  Hanson nodded his assent and together they guided the spoon into Tom’s mouth.  When Tom had finished, Booker took the bowl back to the kitchen and retrieved Tom’s medication.  Filling a mug with water, he carried them back to the couch and sat down.  When he placed the pills in Hanson’s palm, he noticed a flicker of humiliation in his friend’s eyes.  “There’s nothing to be ashamed of Tommy,” Booker reassured.  “Loads of people take antidepressants.”

“I know,” Hanson mumbled. “I just feel…” 

His voice trailed off and Dennis did not push.  Placing the handle of the cup in Tom’s fingers, he wrapped his own hand around to hold if firm.  When Tom had swallowed the pills, Booker put the mug on the table.  “Do you want to take that shower?” he asked, keeping his voice composed.

Tom’s brown eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion and he nodded silently.  Standing up, the two men walked into the bathroom.  Trying to keep his nerves out of his voice, Booker spoke first. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Swallowing deeply, Tom could not quite meet Dennis’ gaze.  “Um, we’ll do it how they did it at Brentwood.  I need you to turn on the shower and I need help getting out of my clothes,” he murmured.  When Booker nodded, he continued.  “If you put shower gel in my hands I can wash myself but I have trouble washing my hair so…”

When Tom did not continue, Booker said the words for him.  “You need me to wash your hair.  Okay, I can do that but um, Tommy, do I get in the shower with you?”

Once again, embarrassment clouded Tom’s eyes.  “You don’t have to, we can do it over the sink if you want.”

“No,” Booker replied slowly. “The shower would be easier but only if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m okay with it,” Tom muttered.  He began to wonder why he was having trouble breathing and he suddenly realized his palms were sweating.  It had not been this difficult in Brentwood.  The nurses were matter-of-fact about the whole procedure; it was just part of their job and they got on with it without any fuss.  But Booker was so considerate and worried about offending him that it made the process much more intimate.  He felt his legs begin to shake and he took in several deep, calming breaths to steady his nerves.  He suddenly felt terrified that having Dennis’ hands touching him whilst he stood naked would cause his body to react and he would start to get aroused.  

The sound of Booker turning on the faucets brought Tom back to reality.  He watched as Booker pulled off his t-shirt and he marveled at the officer’s muscular chest.  Immediately he felt weak and frail.  He had lost so much weight since his breakdown and even though he had never been big, he knew he was now underweight.  His lower lip began to tremble as he fought back tears.  He screwed his eyes shut in an effort to prevent the tears from falling.  He jumped slightly when he felt Dennis embrace him.  “Hey,” Booker murmured in his ear. “If it’s too difficult, we can leave it ‘til later.”

Tom could hear the water cascading in the shower and the bathroom slowly began to fill with steam.  Drawing back, he gave Booker a faint smile.  “If I don’t do it now, when will I do it?” he asked.  Taking a few moments to pull himself together, he managed a genuine grin.  “It’s now or never, let’s do it.”

Raising his arms, he allowed Booker to pull his t-shirt over his head.  Turning to face the shower cubicle, he felt Dennis slowly drag down his boxers.  Stepping out of the cotton fabric, he stood naked as Booker squirted shower gel into his palms.  He stepped into the shower and immediately ducked his head under the water to hide the red flush that had crept over his face.  Rubbing his hands awkwardly together, he lathered up his body, removing the stale sweat of his nightmare.  Glancing sideways, he noticed that Booker had drawn the curtain to give him some privacy.  He sighed with relief and slowly began to relax and enjoy the warm water flooding over his body and easing his aches and pains.  After ten minutes he knew he could not put it off any longer.  “Dennis?” he called out softly.

“I’m here,” Dennis replied, pulling back the curtain.  “Are you ready?”

Tom nodded and closing his eyes, he heard Booker enter the cubicle and close the curtain.  After several moments, he felt gentle fingers massaging his scalp and he let out a tranquil sigh.  Once again he was surprised at the tenderness of Booker’s touch.  The undercover cop too often displayed an arrogant, tough exterior, which belied his true nature.  Tom relaxed his shoulders and leaned back against Booker’s muscular body.  The contact had his stomach doing flip-flops and once again, he felt his cock begin to stir.  

But as soon as the body contact was made, it was immediately lost as Booker took a step backwards, his heart hammering in his chest as he felt his cock swelling.  He could only hope that Tom had not felt the hardness pushing against him.  Realizing that he needed to call a halt to their showering escapade, he rinsed off Tom’s hair and turned off the faucets.  Yanking back the curtain, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist.  Grabbing another towel, he held it out in front of him, averting his eyes as Tom exited the shower.  Draping the towel around Hanson’s waist, he tucked in the corner and stepped back, sighing with relief that the uncomfortable encounter was finally over.  When he finally met Tom’s gaze, he saw amusement in the young officer’s eyes.  “What?” he asked, unclear as to why Tom would find the situation funny.

“Am I just supposed to drip dry?” Tom asked, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Oh… shit,” Booker muttered.  He raked his fingers through his steam-dampened hair.  “Um Tommy, I um—”

“It’s okay Dennis,” Tom murmured. “I felt something too.”

Booker stared back with wide eyes.  “You did?  Jesus Tom, I really don’t think this is a good—”

“Stop saying that!” Hanson exclaimed loudly.  “I’m not a fucking child Booker.  Yes, I was raped.  Yes, I tried to take my own life.  Yes, I’m probably going to need therapy for a very long time but that does not mean I’m incapable of making my own decisions!  I don’t know why I’m starting to feel these things when you touch me and I don’t know if I could ever take it further.  But I do know that it’s _you_ I want helping me through it all.  Damn it Dennis, I just need you to stop worrying about it!”

Booker’s face registered the shock he felt at Tom’s declaration.  Breathing deeply, he met Tom’s angry gaze.  “You’re _really_ okay with this?”

Sighing deeply, Tom softened his expression.  “How many times do I have to say it?  But you’ve got to understand, I’m not promising anything.  I don’t know if I can have a relationship with another man, I just know that I want you in my life.”

Smiling, Booker pulled Tom into a tight embrace.  “I can live with that,” he murmured.  “Now let’s get you dry before you freeze to death.”

Tom stood still and let Dennis rub him down with the towel.  After drying himself off, Booker led Hanson into the bedroom and helped him to dress.  Taking out clean, white bandages, he lifted Tom’s left arm.  “Wait,” Hanson instructed.  “Before you put the splints back on can you help me with my physio?”

“Sure,” Booker replied. “Just tell me what to do.”

After explaining the exercises, Tom sat on the bed and laid both his arms on his thighs with his palms facing upwards.  He watched as Dennis gently curled and uncurled his fingers.  After a few minutes, Booker took turns lifting each finger and holding it for five seconds before releasing it.  Hanson smiled when he saw the concentration on Dennis’ face.  His world had changed dramatically over the last few months and he knew that he would never be the same Thomas Hanson who had walked into Riverbend searching for a murderer.  But as he looked at Booker gently working his fingers, he felt that maybe something good was about to emerge from the debris of his shattered life.  



	17. All My Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Draping the towel around Hanson’s waist, he tucked in the corner and stepped back, sighing with relief that the uncomfortable encounter was finally over .  When he finally met Tom’s gaze, he saw amusement in the young officer’s eyes.  “What?” he asked, unclear as to why Tom would find the situation funny._
> 
> _“Am I just supposed to drip dry?” Tom asked, his eyes twinkling with mirth._
> 
> _“Oh… shit,” Booker muttered.  He raked his fingers through his steam-damped hair.  “Um Tommy, I err—“_
> 
> _“It’s okay Dennis,” Tom murmured. “I felt something too.”_
> 
> _Booker stared back with wide eyes.  “You did?  Jesus Tom, I really don’t think this is a good—“_
> 
> _“Stop saying that!” Hanson exclaimed loudly.  “I’m not a fucking child Booker.  Yes, I was raped.  Yes, I tried to take my own life.  Yes, I’m probably going to need therapy for a very long time but that does not mean I’m incapable of making my own decisions!  I don’t know why I’m starting to feel these things when you touch me and I don’t know if I could ever take it further.  But I do know that it’s you I want helping me through it all.  Damn it Dennis, I just need you to stop worrying about it!”_
> 
> _Booker’s face registered the shock he felt at Tom’s declaration.  Breathing deeply, he met Tom’s angry gaze.  “You’re really okay with this?”_
> 
> _Sighing deeply, Tom softened his expression.  “How many times do I have to say it?  But you’ve got to understand, I’m not promising anything.  I don’t know if I can have a relationship with another man, I just know that I want you in my life.”_
> 
> _Smiling, Booker pulled Tom into a tight embrace.  “I can live with that,” he murmured.  “Now let’s get you dry before you freeze to death.”_
> 
> _Tom stood still and let Dennis rub him down with the towel.  After drying himself off, Booker led Hanson into the bedroom and helped him to dress.  Taking out clean, white bandages, he lifted Tom’s left arm.  “Wait,” Hanson instructed.  “Before you put the splints back on can you help me with my physio?”_
> 
> _“Sure,” Booker replied. “Just tell me what to do.”_
> 
> _After explaining the exercises, Tom sat on the bed and laid both his arms on his thighs with his palms facing upwards.  He watched as Dennis gently curled and uncurled his fingers.  After a few minutes, Booker took turns lifting each finger and holding it for five seconds before releasing it.  Hanson smiled when he saw the concentration on Dennis’ face.  His world had changed dramatically over the last few months and he knew that he would never be the same Thomas Hanson who had walked into Riverbend searching for a murderer.  But as he looked at Booker gently working his fingers, he felt that maybe something good was about to emerge from the debris of his shattered life._

**All My Love**  

Days passed and Dennis and Tom slowly managed to get into a routine of sorts.  It did not take long for the familiarity of their relationship to quash any discomfort either man felt over the intimacy they shared on a daily basis.  However, they both found it increasingly difficult to control the urges their bodies experienced when they came into close contact with each other.  Showering was the most testing time, standing naked together underneath the warm, flowing water, as the steam swirling seductively around their wet bodies.  It was most challenging for Tom, who had no way of relieving his sexual arousal because of the constrictions with his hands.  Many times, he was semi erect when Booker dressed him and he had to wait in discomfort until the feeling passed.  Neither man alluded to their desires; Booker was too afraid that Hanson’s fragile mental state would crack under the stress and Tom was still too confused about why his body was reacting the way it was.  So instead, they both just accepted that it was part of the ritual of their life together and carried on as though it were normal.

As Dennis was now no longer working, they made the joint decision to break the lease on his apartment and move into Tom’s roomier home.  Hanson was still receiving full pay from the police department because the rape, which had ultimately led to his suicide attempt, had happened whilst on the job.  Dennis had wanted to ask Doug to help them pack, hoping that it would give Tom a chance to reconnect with his partner.  However, Hanson flatly refused, preferring to pay for a removalist.  Now that he had feelings for Booker, Tom was terrified that Doug would quickly see through any thinly veiled attempt he made to hide his obvious affection for the dark-haired undercover officer.  He knew Penhall was extremely astute; he had seen through Booker’s façade almost immediately.  Although he felt no shame for his attraction towards Dennis, he was not sure he could cope with Penhall’s disapproval.  He knew Doug would think that Booker had somehow coerced him and he did not want to have to deal with any fights that might erupt between the two hotheaded men because of Penhall’s unsubstantiated accusations.

Booker heard Tom enter the bedroom just as he was placing the photo of himself and Ben into his bedside table drawer.  As he was about to close the drawer, Tom put his hand out and stopped him.  “You should leave it on show.  He was a big part of your life.”

Picking up the frame, Booker stared at the photo.  Ben had meant everything to him but slowly, overtime, the pain of losing him had transformed into a dull ache.  Since Hanson had become a part of his life, he had given less thought to the life he and Ben had shared.  He guessed it was what people called _moving on_.  He knew there would always be a special place in his heart just for Ben but he was ready to let go.  “No,” he said with a sad smile as he placed the picture back into the drawer and pushed it closed.  “I think Ben would understand and he’d be happy that I’m able to let go.”

Tom gave an understanding nod but he could not help but wonder if he was the reason Dennis was able to move on.  A small shiver of excitement ran down his spine and he closed his eyes for a fraction of a moment, as he allowed his mind to imagine what it would be like to be Booker’s lover.”  When he finally opened them, he saw Dennis staring at him intensely.  “Are you okay Tommy, you look kind of flushed.”

Hanson quickly tried to hide his embarrassment at being caught in the act of enjoying evocative thoughts.  “Yeah,” he breathed softly. “I guess I’m just a little tired, it’s been a long day.”

“Food first, then a shower, then bed,” Dennis instructed with a laugh.  “You’ve got an appointment with Doctor Lewis tomorrow and I don’t want him accusing me of not looking after you properly.”

“I’m fine,” Tom replied, giving Booker a cheeky grin.  “So he’d better not imply otherwise.”

“You do _seem_ happy,” Booker murmured quietly.  “Are you?”

“Yeah I am,” Hanson answered softly.  “I never thought I would be again but I can honestly say that I am.  I know I still have a lot of hurdles to face but I’m ready to tackle them and I don’t think I could have said that two weeks ago.”

Reaching out, Booker trailed his finger lovingly down Tom’s face.  “I’m _so_ glad.  I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you happy again either.  Now come on, let’s eat.”

Walking back into the living area, Dennis set to work in the kitchen.  He cooked up some chicken breast and made a salad.  Glancing out at the living room, his heart swelled with pride as Tom balanced a plate on both hands and carried it over to the table where he carefully let it slide onto the table.  He repeated the process before walking into the kitchen where Booker laid two forks and a knife across his palms.  He carried those to the table and dropped them onto the wooden surface.  Grinning, he turned back to Booker.  “I don’t reckon I’d better carry the beers,” he laughed. “Unless you wanna lick it off the table.”

Dennis grinned back.  Taking two beers out of the refrigerator, he popped the tops and put them on the table.  “Do you want to take off your splints?” he asked, knowing it was easier for Tom without them.  

Hanson nodded and he stood patiently as Booker unstrapped the cumbersome plastic supports and unwound the protective bandages.  Tossing them onto the couch, Dennis walked back to the kitchen.  “Sit down, food’s ready.”

Tom pulled out a chair and sat down.  Dennis brought over the pan and placed a piece of chicken on each plate.  Sitting down, he served the salad then carefully cut up Tom’s chicken into bite size pieces.  “Do you want to try and feed yourself?” he asked. “Or do you want me to help you?”

“I’m kinda tired,” Tom replied. “Do you mind?”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Dennis answered and together they held the fork and slowly placed a piece of chicken into Tom’s mouth.  As Hanson chewed, Dennis took several mouthfuls of his own meal before again helping Tom.  The whole process took time but neither man was in a hurry.  When they had finished, Booker carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen.  “The washing up can wait,” he said as he looked at the clock and saw it was almost 8.30pm.  “Let’s take a shower.”

Hanson’s body tingled with anticipation.  He was tired but he was longing to feel Booker’s fingers massaging his scalp.  Neither of them had showered that morning as the removalist had arrived early and Booker knew he would get sweaty helping to load and unload all of his belongings.  Walking into the bathroom, Tom waited as Dennis set the temperature of the shower.  When it was right, Booker helped him to undress.  Naked, Hanson stepped into the cubicle and faced towards the shower head, letting the warm water wash over him.  His fatigue became evident when he allowed the shower gel to wash from his hands before he could lather it up.  “Damn it,” he muttered in frustration.

“Is everything okay Tommy?” Booker called out from the other side of the shower curtain and it was at that moment that Tom knew he was about to cross over into dangerous territory.  

“No,” he replied, his voice breathless with his growing need.  “Can you help me?”

Dennis pulled back the curtain and stepped into the shower.  “What do you want me to do?” he asked softly, standing behind Hanson.

Tom’s breath was almost a pant.  “Wash me,” he whispered as he felt his cock begin to harden.

For a long moment, Tom thought that Booker was not going to do it.  Embarrassed, he felt tears pricking at his eyes and he was about to step out of the shower when he felt gentle, soapy hands rubbing his back.  Hanging his head, he allowed himself to take pleasure from the contact and his cock continued to swell. When Dennis circled his arms around his body and slowly washed his chest, Hanson could not contain his feelings and he let out a contented moan.

“Oh God Tommy,” Booker breathed behind him and Hanson knew there was no going back.  Turning around, he faced Dennis and saw only unbridled longing in his dark eyes.  

“Touch me,” Tom pleaded softly, craving for release.  “Please Dennis… make me come.”

Booker’s eyes glinted brightly as he trailed a finger along Tom’s jaw line.  “Oh baby,” he whispered, barely able to breathe.  “Are you sure?”

“Yesss!” Tom hissed, his eyes black with desire.  “I want you to touch me.”

Placing one hand behind Tom’s head, Booker reached out and gently wrapped the fingers of his other hand around Hanson’s erect cock.  At the sudden contact, Tom cried out and his hips thrust forward.  Dennis slowly began to tug at Tom’s erection, his eyes never leaving Hanson’s face.  As the water cascaded over both their bodies, he felt Tom’s arm circle his waist, pulling him closer.  “Faster,” Tom panted against Dennis’ ear, his voice heavy with arousal.  “Oh God… it feels so good.”

Booker increased his pace, his own cock now weeping heavily.  Turning his head, their mouths met and Dennis moaned loudly as Tom’s lips slowly parted and he allowed Booker’s tongue to gain access.  Slowly they explored each other’s mouths, their tongues intertwining as their passion grew.  Breaking the kiss, Tom became vocal.  “Oh fuck Dennis… harder… Oh God, harder… I wanna come… Oh God, I wanna come!”

Dropping the hand that held the back of Tom’s head, Dennis started to masturbate.  “Come for me baby,” he groaned huskily. “I wanna see you come.”

Their mouths found each other again and they kissed passionately.  “Oh God,” Tom gasped against Booker’s lips. “I’m close… harder… oh fuck… oh fuck… oh _fuuck!”_

Hanson’s body shuddered violently as he ejaculated over Booker’s fingers.  A moment later, Booker cried out as his own release hit hard.  As both his hands stilled, he stared deep into Hanson’s eyes.  “Tommy,” he murmured, pulling Hanson close. “Oh _Tommy_.”

Turning off the water, Dennis kept his arms encircled around Hanson’s body.  He could fee Tom’s heavy breathing against his chest and he gave him a gentle squeeze.  Looking up, Tom pressed his lips against Dennis’ and kissed him lightly.  Pulling back, he smiled shyly.  “Wow,” he whispered.

Booker laughed softly.  “I’m not sure wow really sums it up.”  Gently taking Tom’s hand, he exited the shower.  After wrapping a towel around his waist, he took his time patting down Tom’s body.  Hanson stood compliantly, enjoying the pampering.  When they were both dry, they walked into the bedroom.  Booker pulled a fresh pair of boxers out of the drawer but Tom shook his head.  “I don’t wanna wear them,” he murmured languidly.  “I wanna sleep naked.”

Dennis’ eyes flashed with mischief.  “Is that right?  Well maybe I’ll sleep naked too.”

A slow grin spread across Tom’s face.  “I was hoping you’d say that,” he murmured.

“Jesus Hanson, what have you started?” Booker muttered as the reality of the situation hit him.  “What the hell is Lewis gonna say when he hears about this?”

Tom pouted.  “I don’t give a fuck what he says, this is _my_ life, I can make my own decisions.”

Not wanting to point out that Tom might not be completely in the right frame of mind to make certain decisions, Booker walked into the living room and picked up Hanson’s splints.  Carrying them back into the bedroom, he held them up.  “C’mon, let’s get you strapped in.”

Hanson’s defiance continued.  “I don’t wanna wear those either.  I want to sleep one night without the reminder of what I’ve done to myself.”

“Okay,” Booker agreed, tossing the offending pieces of plastic to the floor.  “But I want you to discuss it with the physiotherapist when you see her.”

Smiling sleepily, Tom dropped his towel and walked over to the bed.  Dennis bit down on his lower lip and tried not to gaze at Tom’s slim, naked body.  Throwing back the bedclothes, he watched as Hanson climbed under the covers.  Taking off his own towel, Booker climbed in next to him and reaching around, he switched off the bedside lamp.  Lying down, he was surprised when Tom snuggled up to him.  He put his arm out and pulled him in close.  Tom’s breathing gradually slowed and he drifted off to sleep but Booker lay awake, his mind racing.  Tom’s advances had not been completely unexpected but it was still a shock to him at how quickly it had all unfolded.  But he could not deny how wonderful it felt to have shared such an intimate experience with Hanson.  It was what he had dreamed of since first meeting the pretty officer eight months ago.  Nevertheless, he was still concerned with how things would progress.  He knew he would never be able to make love to Tom until he was certain that doing so would not cause irrevocable damage.

Placing his lips against Tom’s forehead, Booker kissed him tenderly.  “I love you Tommy Hanson,” he whispered as he closed his eyes.  “Always have, always will.”  



	18. Communication Breakdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Smiling sleepily, Tom dropped his towel and walked over to the bed.  Dennis bit down on his lower lip and tried not to gaze at Tom’s slim, naked body.  Throwing back the bedclothes, he watched as Hanson climbed under the covers.  Taking off his own towel, Booker climbed in next to him and reaching around, he switched off the bedside lamp.  Lying down, he was surprised when Tom snuggled up to him.  He put his arm out and pulled him in close.  Tom’s breathing gradually slowed and he drifted off to sleep but Booker lay awake, his mind racing.  Tom’s advances had not been completely unexpected but it was still a shock to him at how quickly it had all unfolded.  But he could not deny how wonderful it felt to have shared such an intimate experience with Hanson.  It was what he had dreamed of since first meeting the pretty officer eight months ago.  Nevertheless, he was still concerned with how things would progress.  He knew he would never be able to make love to Tom until he was certain that doing so would not cause irrevocable damage._
> 
> _Placing his lips against Tom’s forehead, Booker kissed him tenderly.  “I love you Tommy Hanson,” he whispered as he closed his eyes.  “Always have, always will.”_

**Communication Breakdown**  

Waking early the next morning, Booker lay silently in bed watching Tom sleep.  It had been a peaceful night, Tom had not woken once and it was a great relief to Dennis that he had not suffered any nightmares.  He did not like to think that he was solely responsible for soothing Hanson’s troubled mind, but he was certain Tom’s sexual release was a contributing factor.  Taking in Hanson’s tranquil expression, Booker again marveled at how beautiful he was.  Ben had been a very handsome man but Tom truly was in a league of his own.  Just looking at Hanson made Booker horny but he kept himself under control, unsure of what Tom’s mood would be like when he woke up.  Although he hoped Tom had no regrets, Dennis had fully prepared himself for the worst and he was willing to accept it without argument.  All that mattered to him was keeping Tom happy.

Sensing that Tom was waking up, Booker’s heart began to beat faster.  When Hanson opened his eyes and smiled lazily, all of his fears evaporated.  “Hey sleepyhead,” he murmured, reaching out his hand and running his fingers through Tom’s tousled hair.  “Did you have a good night?”

Tom nodded sleepily.  “No nightmares, lots of dreams.”

“Good dreams?” Dennis asked quietly.

A slow, impish smile played over Tom’s lips.  “You could say that.”

Dennis’ heart rate increased again and he felt his cock beginning to come alive.  “So how are you feeling?” he asked, trying to take his mind off his growing erection.  

But Tom’s answer instantly had him thinking of nothing else.  “Horny.” 

“Oh!” Booker exclaimed, taken aback by Hanson’s candid reply.  He licked at his lips nervously.  “So do you want me to…?”

Tom’s eyes turned into jet-black orbs of desire.  “I want you to play with me,” he whispered seductively.  “I want you to make me come.”

It was Booker’s turn to shock Tom.  Reaching under the covers, he began to fondle Hanson’s growing erection.  “Or… maybe you’d like me to suck you?” he murmured softly as his thumb rubbed over Tom’s engorged head.

Two wide, astonished eyes stared back at him and for a moment Dennis wondered if he had overstepped the boundaries.  

“Jesus, _yes,”_ Tom breathed heavily, instantly allaying Booker’s fears.

Smiling mischievously, Booker pulled back the covers to reveal Tom’s erection.  Moving down the bed, he positioned himself between Tom’s bent knees.  “Sit up a bit,” he instructed, his own cock hardening at the thought of what was to come.  Tom did as instructed, his eyes still staring widely at Booker.  Getting on his hands and knees, Dennis slowly lowered his head.  He darted out his tongue and licked Hanson’s slit.  Tom cried out softly and his hips rose off the bed.  Grinning, Booker lifted his head.  “Tell me what you want me to do,” he murmured, wanting Tom to set the pace.

Tom’s voice was low and husky with arousal when he answered.  “Kiss it.”

Bending down, Booker tenderly pressed his lips against the tip of Tom’s cock before swirling his tongue around the head.  “Talk to me,” he instructed as he again kissed Tom’s cockhead.  

“Suck me,” Tom moaned, his disabled hands finding Booker’s hair.  “Oh Jesus Dennis, _suck me!_ ”

Taking a deep breath, Dennis gently held the base of Tom’s cock with one hand before wrapping his lips around his cock.  Again Tom cried out, louder this time as his hips rocked forward.  Shifting his position, Dennis opened up his throat and allowed Hanson to fuck his mouth.  He could hear Tom’s soft cries becoming louder and his own cock started to weep heavily.  He continued to use his lips and tongue and as Hanson’s thrusts became faster, Booker knew he was close.  A loud scream of pleasure signaled Tom’s release and hot semen shot down Dennis’ throat.  Swallowing deeply, Booker took pleasure in Hanson’s unique taste and he slowly lapped at Tom’s cock until it was soft.  Sitting back on his heels, he gazed down at the man he was slowly beginning to think of as his lover.  Hanson’s eyes stared at Dennis huge erection and he smiled sadly.  “I wish I could but…” his voice trailed off.  He wished his hands and fingers worked well enough so he could stimulate Booker to climax.  For the briefest moment, he considered giving Dennis a blowjob but he did not feel ready to perform such an intimate act.  The words _“Okay gorgeous, let’s see your technique,”_ popped into his mind and he instantly pushed them away.

“It’s okay,” Booker soothed. “I can do it myself.”

Once again, Tom’s eyes lit up.  “Let me watch,” he murmured excitedly.  “I wanna see you come.”

Dennis moaned at the thought of Tom watching him.  Reaching down, he slowly started to tug at his cock.  He groaned louder when he heard Hanson whisper _“Faster,”_ and his hand began to pump quicker.  He knew it would not take long, his cock had been steadily weeping since giving Hanson his blowjob.  As he gazed into Tom’s wide, brown eyes, he felt his orgasm rising.  With a yell, he spilled his seed over his fingers.  Closing his eyes, he basked in the delight of his release as his fingers continued to stroke and fondle his dwindling erection until he too went limp.  Sighing contentedly, he shuffled back up the bed and lay down next to Tom.  Rolling over, Tom’s eyes meet his and they kissed slowly and tenderly as their bodies relaxed.  Breaking apart, Booker searched Tom’s face.  “Happy?” he asked quietly, as he gently swept Tom’s bangs out of his eyes.

“Happy,” Hanson replied, as his eyes grew heavy.  “And sleepy.”

Dennis laughed lightly.  “Spoken like a true male.”  Pulling his lover into his arms so Tom’s head rested on his chest, he muttered. “Only a nap okay, you’ve got your appointment with Doctor Lewis.”

Muttering something inaudible, Tom closed his eyes and fell into a blissful sleep.

**

Following a short nap, Booker woke Tom and they spent a blissful half hour in the shower, kissing languidly whilst soaping up each other’s bodies.  Once he had dried and dressed Hanson, Booker made breakfast.  Whilst eating, Tom’s mood slowly changed and he became increasingly quiet.  Dennis put it down to nerves about his impending appointment.  Glancing at the clock, he saw that there was still plenty of time before he needed to drive Tom to Doctor Lewis’ private offices.  When he started to clear the table, Tom dropped a bombshell.  “Can you call me a cab?”

Placing the dishes on the kitchen counter, Dennis sat back down at the table.  “I thought I was driving you.”

"I’d rather go alone,” Tom replied quietly, his finger nervously rubbing at his top lip.

Booker narrowed his eyes.  “Any reason why you suddenly don’t want me around,” he asked, unable to keep the hurt out of his voice.

“I just want to do it myself!  God Booker, I’m tired of having to rely on you all the time,” Tom snapped irritably.  “I just need some space.”

“Really?” Booker shot back crossly.  “Or maybe it’s because you’re not planning on telling Lewis about us and you’re afraid if he calls me in for a chat I might say something.  What’s the problem Tom, do I embarrass you or do you just not want to admit that you’re falling for another man?”

“Who said I was falling for you?” Tom replied spitefully.  “Maybe I’m just using you so I can get off.”

Pushing his chair back angrily, Booker stood up and walked towards the bedroom.  “Fine.  If that’s the case, you can call your own fucking cab.  And whilst you’re at it, strap on your own fucking splints.  I’m over this shit.”

As the door banged closed, tears pricked at Tom’s eyes.  He wanted desperately to tell Dennis that he was just nervous and he did not mean the hurtful things he had said. It was true, he was anxious about revealing his relationship with Booker to Doctor Lewis and he had seriously considered not mentioning it.  But it was not because he felt shame, it was because it was all so new to him and he was still getting accustomed to the idea himself.  Also, it was nice to have something private in his life again.  Since the rapes and especially since his attempted suicide, everything in his life had become public domain, discussed by friends, family, doctors and therapists.  He had always been a very private person, unwilling to discuss his innermost thoughts and feelings to even his closest friends.  However, once he went to Brentwood, all of that had changed and he had no choice but to open up and discuss his _feelings_ with Doctor Lewis.  But the scrutiny of his innermost thoughts had left him feeling vulnerable and weak.  Furthermore, now that he was starting to see a dim light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel, he wanted to try to find the _old_ Tom Hanson.  He wanted his independence back and most of all, he wanted his privacy.  

Swiping his tears away, Tom played over Booker’s hurtful words.  He tried to tell himself that they were just a defensive response to his own unkind statement but part of him could not help but wonder if Booker really was tired of helping him.  Dennis had given up his income and his home so he could play nursemaid to Tom.  Hanson hated the thought that his own selfish needs might ultimately destroy Booker’s life.

Standing up he walked over to the phone.  He struggled to pick up the receiver but eventually he managed to place it between his head and shoulder.  Several times he dialed the wrong number but he finally got through and ordered his cab.  Sitting on the couch, he picked up a splint and tried to put in on his arm.  But no matter how hard he tried, he could not strap it on.  Crying out in frustration, he threw the plastic support against the wall.  Tears slid down his cheeks and he looked at the bedroom door, half-expecting to see Booker come running at the sound of his distressed cry.  But the door remained firmly closed and Tom knew that he was once again, completely on his own.  Sniffing loudly, he stood up and walked to the front door.  He struggled to turn the knob but eventually, the door opened and he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

**

Hearing the door slam, Booker waited a couple of minutes before walking out of the bedroom.  Checking that the apartment was empty, he walked into the kitchen and started to wash up the breakfast dishes.  He was furious at Tom but he was just as furious at himself.  Hanson’s words had cut like a knife but his own reaction had been just as hurtful.  He was unclear how the argument had escalated so quickly and he started to think that perhaps it was best that they spent some time apart.  It was cruel of him to have said that he was tired of helping Tom; nothing could have been further from the truth.  But it hurt him to think that Hanson was too ashamed to mention their budding relationship to the man who knew his deepest, darkest secrets.  Booker could not help but think that Tom might really only be using him for his own needs and that as soon as he gained the use of his hands he would cast him aside without a second thought.

Drying his hands, he walked into the bedroom and changed into shorts and sneakers.  It had been a long time since he had gone for a run along the beach and he thought it would be just the thing to clear his mind.  He calculated that Tom would be gone at least two hours so that gave him plenty of time to drive the short distance to the beach and run to the bluff and back.  

Picking up his car keys, he exited the apartment.  



	19. Night Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Hearing the door slam, Booker waited a couple of minutes before walking out of the bedroom.  Checking that the apartment was empty, he walked into the kitchen and started to wash up the breakfast dishes.  He was furious at Tom but he was just as furious at himself.  Hanson’s words had cut like a knife but his own reaction had been just as hurtful.  He was unclear how the argument had escalated so quickly and he started to think that perhaps it was best that they spent some time apart.  It was cruel of him to have said that he was tired of helping Tom; nothing could have been further from the truth.  But it hurt him to think that Hanson was too ashamed to mention their budding relationship to the man who knew his deepest, darkest secrets.  Booker could not help but think that Tom might really only be using him for his own needs and that as soon as he gained the use of his hands he would cast him aside without a second thought._
> 
> _Drying his hands, he walked into the bedroom and changed into shorts and sneakers.  It had been a long time since he had gone for a run along the beach and he thought it would be just the thing to clear his mind.  He calculated that Tom would be gone at least two hours so that gave him plenty of time to drive the short distance to the beach and run to the bluff and back._
> 
> _Picking up his car keys, he exited the empty apartment._

**Night Flight**  

Arriving back home sweaty and in need of a shower, Booker tossed his keys into the metal bowl and glanced at the clock.  He had been gone approximately eighty minutes and Tom’s session would just be finishing up.  Deciding that he had time to for a shower, Booker stripped off and walked into the bathroom.  Within fifteen minutes, he was refreshed and dressed again in T-shirt and jeans.  Throwing his sweaty clothes into the hamper, he walked into the living room and over to the couch.  Looking down, he saw one of Tom’s splints lying on the seat.  He immediately felt a sharp stabbing pain in his heart.  Picking up the splint, he wished more than anything that he could take back the hurtful words he had directed at Tom.  Gazing around the room, he saw the other splint lying by the wall.  Tears filled his eyes as he envisioned Tom trying but failing to strap on the plastic supports.  He made up his mind that as soon as Hanson walked through the door, he would immediately apologize for his behavior.  

Sitting down, he flicked on the TV and stared at it mindlessly as he waiting for Tom to come home.  When the clock struck twelve, Booker felt a cold tingle of concern.  Tom’s therapy should have finished at eleven and even factoring in the time he would have to wait for a cab, Dennis knew it should not take an hour to get back to the apartment.  In an attempt to calm himself, he persuaded himself that Hanson had need some air to clear his mind, just as he himself had.  Convinced that Tom would walk through the door at any moment, Booker started to make lunch, knowing that Hanson would be hungry when he arrived home.  When one o’clock came and went, Dennis started to panic.  He paced the floor of the apartment wondering what he should do.  As the clock struck two, Booker snatched up the phone and dialed Doctor Lewis’ office.  He spoke to the receptionist who confirmed that Tom had left the office at just after eleven o’clock.  Slamming down the phone, Booker snatched up his keys and ran out of the apartment.  Jumping in his car, he screeched out of the car park and down the road towards Lewis’ office complex.  He scrutinized every cab that passed, hoping to see Tom sitting in the passenger seat.  When he arrived at the psychologist’s rooms, he parked the car and started walking the pavements, peering into cafés and diners on the off chance that Hanson had stopped to get something to eat.  When his search did not find any sign of Hanson, he walked back to his car and drove home.

Pulling into his parking space, Booker checked his watch.  It was now almost half past three.  Stepping out of the lift, he saw Tom sitting on the floor outside their apartment.  Although relief flooded through his body, he did not quicken his pace, instead he walked slowly down the hallway, clenching and unclenching his fists.  When he reached Tom, his good intentions disappeared and all the fear and anxiety he had felt over the last few hours came pouring out in an angry tirade.  “Where the _hell_ have you been?” he yelled.  “I’ve been out of my fucking mind!”

“I went for a walk,” Tom replied moodily, not daring to meet Booker’s enraged glare.  “I didn’t know I had to get your permission.”

“Jesus Christ Tom, I thought you of all people would have had the decency to let me know!  Why are you behaving like a selfish prick?” Booker spat back.

“I didn’t think you’d care,” Tom mumbled. “I just wanted a bit of independence.”

“Really?” Booker replied sarcastically.  “And how is that working out for you Tom, huh?  You’re sitting on the floor outside your door ‘cause you can’t get the fucking key in the lock!  Why won’t you just admit that you need me?”

“Because I’m tired of needing people!” Tom cried out as he clambered to his feet.  “I don’t want to be fragile, disabled Tom, I want to be how I used to be!”

Booker’s expression hardened.  “Yeah?  Well maybe you should have thought of that before you sliced open your arms with a razor blade.”

When Tom’s eyes filled with tears, Dennis knew he had crossed a line.  He did not even know why he was fighting with Tom anymore.  Just hours before he had made himself a promise that he would apologize to Hanson as soon as he found him.  But now he was attacking him again, unable to keep his angry thoughts to himself.  Looking at Tom’s teary face, he pulled out his key and unlocked the door.  “I think you’re right,” he said quietly.  “We do need some time apart.  I’m going for a drink, I’ll be home later,” and turning away, he walked back down the hallway.

**

Draining his fifth glass of beer, Booker threw several bills on the bar and nodded to the barman to fill him up.  It was six o’clock and he still did not feel like going home.  His anger had slowly faded but the wounds were still raw and he was afraid if he went back to the apartment, the argument would reignite.  His plan was to get home after Tom had gone to bed and take the couch for the night.  Things would look different in the morning and then he and Tom could sit down and calmly talk about any issues they felt they needed to discuss.

Taking a large gulp of beer, Booker was glad he had decided to walk to the bar, as he knew that by the end of the night he would be too drunk to drive.  He felt depressed and he knew Tom would be feeling the same.  For a fraction of a second, his mind turned to Hanson’s suicide attempt but he pushed the thought away.  He was confident that a silly argument would not be enough to push Tom over the edge.  Hanson had come a long way since he had left Brentwood and over the last few days, there had been flickers of the Hanson of old.  Dennis knew if they could get over this little hurdle, Tom would continue to flourish.

As the hours passed, Booker started to slow down his drinking.  He did not want to be suffering with a hangover in the morning.  It was imperative that he kept a clear head so he and Tom could air their grievances and move on.  Checking his watch, he was surprised to see that it was almost ten o’clock.  Emptying his glass, he thanked the bartender and walked out into the cool night air.  Walking the short distance to Tom’s apartment, he wondered if Hanson had managed to eat something.  There was cold pizza in the refrigerator so he hoped he had at least eaten a couple of slices.  Guilt about having left Tom for so long made him quicken his pace, all he wanted now was to get home and check that Hanson was okay.

Unlocking the door, Booker switched on the light.  The apartment looked the same as when he had left it.  Walking into the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and checked the pizza box but none of the slices had been touched.  Sighing, he walked towards the open bedroom door.  Standing in the doorway, he listened carefully but he could not hear any sound of Tom breathing.  Tiptoeing in, his heart leaped into his throat when he saw that the bed was empty.  Switching on the light, he frantically gazed around him.  Suddenly fearing that Tom had tried to shower and had slipped and fallen, he ran into the bathroom but that too was vacant.  His relief at not finding Tom laying hurt on the floor was short lived when he realized that he had no idea where Hanson was.  Running back into the living room, he noticed that Tom’s splints were not on the couch where he had left them.  Going back into the bathroom, he saw that Hanson’s toothbrush was missing.  Comprehension slowly dawned and he knew that Tom had left.  Sinking to the floor, he held his head in his hands and started to sob.  His grief was overwhelming as he only had himself to blame.  He had lashed out at Tom so viciously when what he should have done was show love and understanding.  His own insecurities had triggered his cruel words; he wanted Tom to feel the same depth of love that he felt and knowing that Hanson was reluctant to publicize their relationship was soul destroying.  But it had been Booker’s possessiveness and jealousy that had ultimately been his undoing.  Tom was gone and he was alone.

The loud ring of the telephone had him scrambling to his feet.  Running out of the bathroom, he picked up the receiver.  “TOMMY!” he yelled.  There was silence on the end of the phone and then the sound of a man clearing his throat.  “Um Booker, it’s Penhall.”

“Oh God Penhall, Tommy’s gone!  Tommy’s _gone!”_ Dennis cried hysterically.

Penhall’s voice sounded uncomfortable.  “I know,” he replied quietly. “He asked me to come and get him.  He er, he wants to stay with me.”

Doug’s words penetrated deep into Booker’s heart.  “No,” he whispered, as tears trickled down his cheeks. “Please Penhall, let me speak to him, it was a misunderstanding, I—”

“He’s asleep,” Penhall answered quickly.  “I think maybe it would be best if you just backed off for a while.”

Booker started to weep openly.  “It was just a misunderstanding, oh God… it was just a _misunderstanding!_   Please Doug… _please!_   I need to talk to him!”

“I’m sorry,” Doug muttered. “But I have to think of Tom.”  Booker heard the soft click of Doug hanging up and then there was only silence.

Replacing the receiver on the cradle, Booker stared with sightless eyes out of the window.  His mind and body felt numb, unwilling to process the information that he had lost a second lover in the space of only eight months.  Slowly, the numbness dissipated and he felt a painful pang in his heart.  Crawling onto the couch, he sobbed uncontrollably into the cushion.  He had given up everything and the only thing he had to show for it was a broken heart.

**

Days  passed and Booker walked around in a zombie like state, unable to eat or sleep.  He stared for hours at the telephone, willing Tom to ring him but it stayed obstinately silent.  On the eighth day, Booker started to pull himself out of his depression.  He needed to make some decisions about his life.  When he had agreed to take care of Tom, he had given up his home and for a short time, his job.  His savings were starting to dwindle now that he did not have access to Hanson’s income.  The rent on the apartment was due and Booker did not know if Tom would pay it or if he even intended to return to his home.  For the briefest of moments, Dennis considered returning to Jump Street but he quickly pushed the idea aside.  He could not face Penhall, Ioki and Hoffs on a daily basis, knowing how he had let Tom down.  Another idea occurred to him and picking up the phone, he placed a call to his old boss at Internal Affairs.  After their conversation had ended, Booker hung up the phone.  Things were slowly starting to fall into place.  Snatching up the newspaper that lay on the couch, he turned to the real estate section and started perusing the rental ads.  



	20. I'm Gonna Crawl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: “Oh God Penhall, Tommy’s gone!  Tommy’s gone!” Dennis cried hysterically._
> 
> _Penhall’s voice sounded uncomfortable.  “I know,” he replied quietly. “He asked me to come and get him.  He err, he wants to stay with me.”_
> 
> _Doug’s words penetrated deep into Booker’s heart.  “No,” he whispered, as tears trickled down his cheeks. “Please Penhall, let me speak to him, it was a misunderstanding, I—”_
> 
> _“He’s asleep,” Penhall answered quickly.  “I think maybe it would be best if you just backed off for a while.”_
> 
> _Booker started to weep openly.  “It was just a misunderstanding, oh God… it was just a misunderstanding!  Please Doug… please!  I need to talk to him!”_
> 
> _“I’m sorry,” Doug muttered. “But I have to think of Tom.”  Booker heard the soft click of Doug hanging up and then there was only silence._
> 
> _Replacing the receiver on the cradle, Booker stared sightlessly out of the window.  His mind and body felt numb, unwilling to process the information that he had lost a second lover in the space of only eight months.  Slowly, the numbness dissipated and he felt a painful pang in his heart.  Crawling onto the couch, he sobbed uncontrollably into the cushion.  He had given up everything and the only thing he had to show for it was a broken heart._
> 
> _**_
> 
> _Days passed and Booker walked around in a zombie like state, unable to eat or sleep.  He stared for hours at the telephone, willing Tom to ring him but it stayed obstinately silent.  On the eighth day, Booker started to pull himself out of his depression.  He needed to make some decisions about his life.  When he had agreed to take care of Tom, he had given up his home and for a short time, his job.  His savings were starting to dwindle now that he did not have access to Hanson’s income.  The rent on the apartment was due and Booker did not know if Tom would pay it or if he even intended to return to his home.  For the briefest of moments, Dennis considered returning to Jump Street but he quickly pushed the idea aside.  He could not face Penhall, Ioki and Hoffs on a daily basis, knowing how he had let Tom down.  Another idea occurred to him and picking up the phone, he placed a call to his old boss at Internal Affairs.  After their conversation had ended, Booker hung up the phone.  Things were slowly starting to fall into place.  Snatching up the newspaper that lay on the couch, he turned to the real estate section and started perusing the rental ads.  
> _

**I'm Gonna Crawl**  

Booker stretched out his body and yawned loudly.  He glanced at the clock and throwing back the covers, he climbed out of bed.  Walking into the kitchen, he made a pot of coffee before he went and had a shower.  Standing under the warm water, he slowly stroked his cock as his thoughts once again turned to Tom.  He had not heard from Penhall since he had turned up on his doorstep unexpectedly three weeks ago to pack up some of Tom’s belongings.  The only information about Hanson that Doug had been willing to divulge was that he was okay and he was still seeing his psychologist and physiotherapist.  Penhall had also told him that Tom would continue to pay the rent on the apartment if he wanted to stay there.  Dennis had shaken his head and told Penhall that he was moving in two days.  He had found a small apartment a few blocks away and now that he was back working at Internal Affairs, he could afford to pay his own way.  When Doug had asked for the address, Booker had hesitated for a moment before writing it down.  He doubted Tom would contact him but he felt happier knowing that Hanson could, if he ever wanted to.

As his fingers fondled his growing erection, Booker let out a soft moan.  He tugged harder as his arousal grew and hanging his head, he began to pant.  As his hand worked faster, he knew he was close and when his orgasm hit hard and fast he cried out Tom’s name.  Tears slid down his face, mingling with the warm water cascading over his body.  Although Hanson had been gone for nearly a month, Booker could not completely let him go.  Tom dominated his thoughts throughout the working day but it was the long nights alone that Dennis found the hardest.  Lying in bed, he would touch himself as he imagined it was Tom’s hand gently stroking and tugging at his erection.  When he climaxed, he closed his eyes and pictured Tom’s beautiful face in his mind.  It saddened him that he did not even have a photograph of Tom and he wondered if time would eventually completely erase the image of his face from his memory.

Stepping out of the shower, he dried himself and quickly dressed in his blue police uniform.  He was undercover at the ninth precinct, trying to gather information about officers excepting bribes.  He had only been there two days but already he had witnessed two officers receiving money from gangland operatives.  He was confident that he would have enough information by the end of the week to present his case to his commanding officer.

Pouring himself a cup of sweet, black coffee, he was about to sit down and watch the morning news when someone knocked on his door.  Checking his watch, he wondered who would be calling at 7am.  Standing up, he walked over and opened the door.  His breath hitched in his throat when he saw Tom and Doug standing in the hallway.

“Hey Dennis,” Tom murmured softly, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of Booker in uniform.  “Can we come in for a minute?”

Booker felt like his heart was about to explode out of his chest, it was pounding so quickly.  Stepping back, he held open the door.  “Come on in,” he invited, hoping his voice sounded casual.  “But I’ve only got a few minute, I’m heading off to work.”

As he closed the door, he tried to gather his frantic thoughts.  There was so much he wanted to say to Tom, so many questions that he wanted answers to, but there was no time.  Turning around, he gave Hanson a tight-lipped smile.  “How’ve you been Tommy?”

Hanson took a moment before answering.  “Better,” he replied quietly, holding up his arms.  “No splints.”

“That’s great,” Booker murmured softly. “I’m really happy for you.”

Doug shuffled his feet nervously as the three men stood in awkward silence.  Unable to stand the tension any longer, he took matters into his own hand. “For fuck’s sake!  Somebody say something!”

Dennis’ face broke into a smile and moments later, Tom returned a grin.  Stepping forward, Tom took hold of Booker’s hand.  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered, his eyes searching Dennis’ face.  “Can we get together some time and talk?”

They were the words Booker had been longing to hear.  He tried to calm his breathing as he replied in a quiet voice. “Of course we can.  But not now, how about dinner tonight?  Seven o’clock.  I’ll cook.”

“Okay,” Tom replied quietly.  He ran his gaze up and down Booker’s uniformed body.  “I guess we should let you get to work.  Doug tells me you’re back at I.A.”

Dennis ran a hand through his hair.  “Yeah well, I didn’t think Jump Street was the right place for me after… well… you know.”

“Oh,” Tom replied, his expression becoming sad.  “I guess you mean because of me.”

“Partly,” Dennis replied truthfully. “But partly because I thought it was best for everyone, I never really did fit in there.  Anyway, it doesn’t matter now.  I’m still getting the bad guys and that’s what’s important, right?”

Hanson nodded, although he did not look convinced.  Letting Booker’s fingers drop from his grasp, he muttered. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

Dennis smiled in reply.  As he closed the door on his visitors, he leaned heavily against the wooden surface as tears pricked his eyes.  He thought Tom looked in good health, as though being apart from him had benefited him greatly.  He wondered what it was that Hanson wanted to discuss.  His heart longed for it be about the two of them starting over but he was rational enough to realize that it was unlikely.  All he could really hope for was an offer of friendship.  He knew it would be extremely hard without the intimacy he yearned for but he loved Tom so much he was more than willing to settle for comradeship if it meant keeping him in his life.

Realizing that he was running late for work, Booker grabbed up his keys and left the apartment.

**

Arriving home with a bagful of groceries, Booker started to prepare dinner.  He did not know how dexterous Tom’s fingers were so he decided to make a curry, which would be easy to eat with just a fork.  When his food was cooking slowly on the stove, he pulled a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon out of a cupboard, placed it on the table and uncorked it so it could breathe.  Returning to the stove, he stirred the pot and boiled some water ready for the rice.  Just as he was about to add the rice to the saucepan he heard a hesitant knock.  Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, he took a deep breath and opened the door.

The sight of Tom dressed neatly in a dark green button down shirt, tight jeans and boots was almost too much for Booker to bear.  His eyes flashed with desire and he quickly dropped his gaze, reluctant to show Tom that he still lusted after him.  “Hey,” he greeted warmly, opening the door wide and motioning with his hand.  “C’mon in.”

Hanson entered carrying a bottle of wine.  He gave Booker a shy smile as he passed the bottle over.  “I um, I wasn’t sure if you drank wine but I figured I should bring something.”

Placing the wine on the kitchen counter, Booker gestured towards the couch.  “Take a seat, I’ll just put the rice on and then we can talk.”

Tom sat down and watched as Booker prepared the rice before coming back to the couch with the open bottle of wine and two glasses.  “Drink?” Dennis asked.

“Sure,” Tom replied. “I still can’t drive so I caught a cab.”

Pouring two glasses, Dennis watched carefully as Tom picked his up and took a sip.  He felt tears stinging his eyes at how easily Tom had managed it compared to how he had been a month ago.  “Wow Tommy,” he murmured softly. “You’ve really come a long way.”

Tom smiled self-consciously.  “Yeah, I’ve been able to do a lot of physio now the tendons have healed.  I haven’t got full use of my fingers and hands and I probably never will… but hey, I can do most things so…”  His voice trailed off as he took another sip of wine.

Booker rubbed nervously at his chin.  He had so many questions but he was wary of overwhelming Tom.  Sensing Dennis’ hesitancy, Hanson placed a hand on his arm.  “It’s okay Dennis, I’m not only a lot stronger physically, I’m a lot stronger mentally.  If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

A slow smile spread over Booker’s face.  “I want to know _everything_ ,” he grinned.  “I want to know about your therapy, I want to know what you’ve been doing, where you’ve been, how you feel…”  He paused for a moment and his dark eyes softened.  “But most of all, I want to know if you forgive me.”

“That depends,” Tom murmured, placing his glass on the table and staring intently into Booker’s eyes.

“Depends on what?” Dennis asked, as he heart thumped painfully in his chest.  

Tom’s lip curled into a shy smile.  “On whether you forgive me too,” he replied quietly.  

“Oh Tommy of course I do,” Booker breathed with relief.  “I’ve missed you so much.”

Reaching out, Tom took both of Dennis’ hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze.  “So… what does that mean exactly?” he asked softly, his eyes never leaving Booker’s face.  “Do you want to just be friends or do you want more?”

Dennis took a moment to think about Tom’s question.  He did not want to scare Tom off by coming on too strong but if they were to have any kind of relationship, he wanted it to be based on honesty.  “I want more,” he admitted. “But if you just want to just be friends, I’m okay with that too.”

Tom chewed on his lower lip as he considered Booker’s statement.  “I want more too,” he replied carefully.  “But I think… I think we need to take things slowly.” 

“How slowly?” Dennis murmured, gazing deep into Tom’s eyes.

A cheeky grin slowly spread across Tom’s face.  “Not _that_ slowly.  What I meant was, I think we should keep our own apartments, not live together.  Are you okay with that?”

“God yes!” Booker exclaimed in relief.  “I just want to make things right.  I’ve been miserable without you.”

“Yeah, I haven’t exactly been dancing for joy either,” Tom revealed.  “But before you make your decision, there’s something you should know.”

A cold shiver of fear ran down Booker’s spine.  For a horrible moment he thought that Tom’s second HIV test had come back positive.  Seeing Dennis’ alarmed expression, Tom gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.  “It’s nothing bad, it just might be something that you don’t want to become embroiled in.”

Just as Booker was about to ask Tom what he meant, the timer on the stove buzzed, signaling that the rice was ready.  “Do you want to eat, or do you want to keep talking?” he asked.

Tom shrugged.  “No reason why we can’t do both.”

Dennis stood up and went into the kitchen as Tom seated himself at the table.  Minutes later, he returned with two bowls filled with lamb curry and rice.  Sitting down, Booker picked up his fork but it hovered just above his meal.  “So what’s this big secret?” he asked as he watched Tom clumsily using his utensil.  

“Oh,” Tom replied, laying down his fork and taking a sip of wine.  “It’s about what happened to me in Riverbend.”

“Oh Jesus Tommy, you’re starting to scare me,” Booker replied quietly, his dark eyes wide with concern.

Hanson gave a comforting smile.  “I told you, it’s nothing bad.  It’s just… I’ve been working with Doctor Lewis and I’ve decided that I’m going to lay charges against Matty Richardson and the others.”

It was the first time Booker had heard the name of Tom’s rapist.  When Hanson had talked about the rapes, he had only ever referred to the main instigator at _“he”._   To Dennis, it was a huge step forward in Tom’s recovery just to utter the name of the boy who had caused him so much pain.  But to hear that he now wanted to prosecute Richardson was music to Booker’s ears.  Getting out of his chair, he squatted down next to Hanson and laid a hand on his thigh.  “Oh Tommy, I’m so fucking proud of you,” he murmured, as tears filled his eyes.

“Really?” Tom asked uncertainly.  “Because I wasn’t sure that you’d want to get involved knowing how drawn out these cases can be.  I can’t promise that I’ll always be able to cope with everything and there may be days when I—”

“I don’t care!” Dennis declared.  “No matter how tough it gets I promise I’ll be there for you, every step of the way.”

It was Tom’s turn to become emotional.  “Oh God Dennis, do you really mean that?” he asked softly with tears glistening in his eyes.

Reaching out, Booker cupped Tom’s face with his hand.  “I’d crawl around the world just to make you happy,” he whispered.

The food forgotten, Tom leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against Dennis’.  A soft moan escaped Booker’s lips as their mouths opened and they sought out each other’s tongues.  As their kiss intensified, Booker placed his hands on Tom’s narrow waist and gently lifted him from his seat as he too stood up.  Pulling Hanson close, his hands traveled to Tom’s backside and he squeezed the firm cheeks.  “Stay,” he whispered against Tom ear as he nibbled at the soft flesh of his earlobe.  “I want to be with you tonight.”

Drawing back, Tom met Booker’s dark, excited gaze.  “Okay,” he murmured as he felt his growing erection rubbing against Booker’s hard bulge.

Taking Hanson’s hand, Dennis led him into the bedroom.  Tom kicked off his boots as he stared at Booker with hot desire.  Standing next to the bed, Dennis slowly unbuttoned Tom’s shirt and taking it off, he threw it onto the floor.  Leaning forward, he sucked and nipped at the flesh between Tom’s neck and shoulder, leaving a bright red mark in his wake.  His hands traveled down Tom’s smooth chest, stopping to rub at the hard nubs of his nipples before continuing their journey.  He paused at Tom’s navel and he drew the young officer in for a kiss as he unbuttoned his jeans.  His fingers rubbed at the hardness of Tom’s cock as he slowly unzipped the zipper and let the denims fall to the floor.  Tom quickly stepped out of them, moaning deep into Dennis’ mouth as nimble fingers fondled and caressed him.  Afraid of losing control too quickly, Tom reached down and stilled Booker’s hand.  “Your turn,” he murmured against Dennis’ lips as his fingers tried to unbutton Booker’s shirt.  His motions were clumsy but Booker did not hurry him.  Eventually his shirt lay on the floor as Tom slowly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans.  When he had kicked his denims away, he stared deep into Tom’s eyes.  

“Touch me,” he begged, his excitement rising at the anticipation of feeling Tom’s hands stroking him for the first time.  He could not contain his pleasure when Tom’s fingers slid underneath the waistband of his boxers and gently caressed his hard cock.  “Oh God… oh Tommy!” he cried, his body shuddering at the thrill of Tom’s touch.  

Smiling, Tom whispered seductively against Dennis’ ear. “Bed?”

Booker nodded his agreement and they both stripped off their last pieces of clothing before climbing under the covers.  Throwing back the bedclothes, Booker gazed at Tom’s naked body.  “I wanna be able to see you,” he muttered, as his thumb rubbed over the tip of Tom’s cock.  

Hanson groaned loudly and finding Booker’s mouth, he kissed him deeply.  “Tell me what you like,” he murmured, as his fingers played over Booker’s erection.

“Just like that,” Dennis panted as Tom began to tug gently at his cock.  “Oh Jesus, Tommy, that feels so fucking good.”  As their hands explored each other’s bodies, their arousal intensified.  Within minutes they were frantically jerking each other off, their mouths clashing as their bodies writhed in passion.  With a cry, Tom’s orgasm hit first and he vocalized his pleasure with a loud cry.  Moments later, Dennis yelled out Tom’s name and his body shuddered as he spilled his hot seed.  Their kissing became less feverish as their bodies relaxed into a post-climactic bliss.  Booker nibbled lovingly on Tom’s lower lip before pulling away.  His eyes searched Tom’s face and he smiled when he saw his sleepy expression.  “Jesus Hanson, don’t tell me you’re ready to fall asleep already.”

“I can’t help it,” Tom pouted, making Booker smile. “Sex makes me sleepy.”

Dennis gently stroked Tom’s face.  “So you’ll stay the night?” he asked softly,

An impish smile played on Hanson’s lips.  “Only if you cook me breakfast.”

Booker laughed.  “I told you before Tommy, I’d crawl around the world for you, so I think I can manage breakfast.”

Tom sighed contentedly and laying his head on Booker’s smooth, broad chest he let the rhythm of Dennis’ heart beat lull him into a peaceful sleep.  



	21. Since I've Been Loving You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Smiling, Tom whispered seductively against Dennis’ ear. “Bed?”_
> 
> _Booker nodded his agreement and they both stripped off their last pieces of clothing before climbing under the covers. Throwing back the bedclothes, Booker gazed at Tom’s naked body. “I wanna be able to see you,” he muttered, as his thumb rubbed over the tip of Tom’s cock._
> 
> _Hanson groaned loudly and finding Booker’s mouth, he kissed him deeply. “Tell me what you like,” he murmured, as his fingers played over Booker’s erection._
> 
> _“Just like that,” Dennis panted as Tom began to tug gently at his cock. “Oh Jesus, Tommy, that feels so fucking good.” As their hands explored each other’s bodies, their arousal intensified. Within minutes they were frantically jerking each other off, their mouths clashing as their bodies writhed in passion. With a cry, Tom’s orgasm hit first and he vocalized his pleasure with a loud cry. Moments later, Dennis yelled out Tom’s name and his body shuddered as he spilled his hot seed. Their kissing became less feverish as their bodies relaxed into a post-climactic bliss. Booker nibbled lovingly on Tom’s lower lip before pulling away. His eyes searched Tom’s face and he smiled when he saw his sleepy expression. “Jesus Hanson, don’t tell me you’re ready to fall asleep already.”_
> 
> _“I can’t help it,” Tom pouted, making Booker smile. “Sex makes me sleepy.”_
> 
> _Dennis gently stroked Tom’s face. “So you’ll stay the night?” he asked softly,_
> 
> _An impish smile played on Hanson’s lips. “Only if you cook me breakfast.”_
> 
> _Booker laughed. “I told you before Tommy, I’d crawl around the world for you, so I think I can manage breakfast.”_
> 
> _Tom sighed contentedly and laying his head on Booker’s smooth, broad chest he let the rhythm of Dennis’ heart beat lull him into a peaceful sleep._

**Since I've Been Loving You**

Hanson and Booker spent a blissful few months slowly becoming acquainted with each other again. They spent many hours sipping wine and talking, learning intimate details about each other’s families and life experiences. Now capable of looking after himself, Tom had moved back into his own apartment. Being careful not to move their relationship along too quickly, they agreed to limit the nights they spent together to a few times during the working week but on weekends, they spent every hour together, enjoying each other’s company and bodies long into the night. The arrangement worked well, both men had time to concentrate on their own needs and their time apart made them hungry for the touch and feel of each other’s bodies.  
  
After a particularly passionately encounter, Tom lay with his head on Booker's chest, lightly tracing his finger around his partner’s nipple. He listened as the beat of Dennis’ heart slowed to a steady rhythm as his body relaxed. Propping himself up on his elbow, Tom stared intensely at Booker. Sensing something was troubling him, Dennis gently swept Tom’s long bangs back from his eyes. “What’s wrong baby?” he asked softly.  
  
Tom chewed on his lower lip, a telltale sign that he was unsure of himself. Several moments later, he gave Booker a shy smile. “I know I haven’t been able to give you what you want,” he murmured quietly.  
  
Booker leaned forward and kissed Tom tenderly. “You’ve given me everything I could ever want,” Dennis reassured, trailing his finger around Hanson’s jaw.  
  
“No I haven’t,” Tom replied, his brown eyes filling with sadness. “I want what you and Ben had, I want to be with you _completely_.”  
  
Dennis eyes widened with astonishment. More than anything, he wanted to make love to Tom but when their relationship had started, he knew that they might never be able love each other in the intimate way that he so desired. But over time, he had made peace with that knowledge and now he rarely thought about. Hanson meant more to him than sex and he was determined not to ruin their relationship again because of his own selfish needs.  
  
However, now that Tom had made his startling revelation, Booker felt his body tingle. Gazing back into Tom’s brown eyes, he chose his words carefully. “What exactly are you trying to tell me Tommy?” he asked softly.  
  
Hanson gave an awkward smile. “I want you to make love to me but…”  
  
“But what baby?” Dennis pressed gently. “You know you can tell me anything.”  
  
“I know I can,” Tom replied, his soft eyes glistening. “I just feel so fucking inadequate.”  
  
Dennis pulled Hanson into his arms. “Oh Tommy, don’t ever feel that way,” he muttered into Tom’s hair. “It doesn’t matter to me that we can’t have sex, you know our relationship means more than that to me.”  
  
“I know that!” Tom cried out in frustration, pulling free of Booker’s hold. “But _I_ want more.”  
  
Booker thought about Tom’s statement for a moment before replying. “Then we talk to Doctor Lewis about it, we have therapy, we do whatever it takes if that’s what you want.”  
  
Tom stared at Dennis with devotion. “You’d do that?”  
  
Dennis laughed. “Tommy, when are you going to get it into that thick head of yours that I’ll do _anything_ for you… except maybe murder,” he grinned.  
  
Tom’s face relaxed. “So we speak to Lewis,” he echoed. Bending forward, he kissed Booker affectionately. “I love you Dennis,” he whispered.  
  
Booker’s eyes filled with tears. It was the first time Tom had uttered the sacred words. “I love you too baby,” he replied, before kissing Tom deeply. Hanson laid his head back on Dennis chest and closing his eyes he sighed contentedly as Booker gently stroked his hair. He had finally found the courage to tell his lover what he wanted. Although terrified of what lay ahead, he knew that he had made the right decision. Before too long, he would know what it felt like to be consumed completely by the man he loved.  
  
                                                                                                                                                         **  
  
When Tom approached Doctor Lewis about his decision to take his relationship with Booker further, the doctor referred them to a sex therapist. Both Dennis and Tom started by having several individual sessions so the therapist could gauge their reservations and expectations. They then started once a week couples counseling. Booker learnt that he needed to relinquish control to Tom and let him take charge during their sexual liaisons. It was not an easy thing for Dennis to do, he had always been the more dominant partner in his relationships but he tried his best to allow Tom to set the pace and tell him what he wanted. He had never been a selfish lover, in fact, he was the exact opposite but he did always like to take control. It was a turning point for them both being able to reverse their roles and experience sex in a different way.  
  
Six weeks into their therapy, Tom and Dennis lay in Booker’s bed slowly kissing as their fingers explored each other’s bodies with light strokes and caresses. Shifting his position slightly, Tom draped his leg over Dennis’ and bent up his knee. Taking Booker’s hand, he gently moved it down his body until it was resting on his backside. “I want you to touch me,” he murmured between kisses. “Touch me _there_.”  
  
Booker’s heart skipped a beat. He had been instructed by Doctor McGuire _not_ to question Tom’s needs and not to make a fuss and ask if Tom was _sure_ he wanted to take certain steps within their relationship. Kissing Tom tenderly, he gently rubbed his finger against Hanson’s hole. He heard Tom’s sharp intake of breath but he did not pull his hand away, instead, he continued to caress the opening. When he looked into Tom’s eyes, he saw liquid brown pools of desire staring back at him. When Hanson rolled over, Booker thought Tom was calling an end to their experimentation but he heard the bedside drawer open and his heart began to pound. When Tom turned back over, he handed Booker a tube of lubrication with a shaky hand. “I want you to use your finger,” he instructed, his voice trembling slightly.  
  
Dennis kissed Tom and took the lube from his hand. “I’m just gonna get you ready first,” he answered quietly. Tom nodded, as he nervously chewed on his lower lip. Booker placed the unopened lube on the mattress and reaching down he started to rub Tom’s perineum and inner thighs with his fingers. He saw Tom’s face relax and he smiled lovingly. Several minutes later, he opened the lube, and squirted a dollop onto two fingers before throwing the tube onto the floor. Smiling reassuringly at Tom, Booker smeared some lube in a circular motion around his hole, taking time to kiss his lover tenderly. “Ready?” he asked quietly.  
  
“Yes,” Tom replied, his eyes gazing at Booker trustingly.  
  
“Breathe in,” Booker instructed. When Tom took a breath Dennis placed his finger against Tom’s hole. “Now breathe out.” When Tom exhaled, Dennis gently pushed the tip of his finger inside. “Again,” he encouraged and when Tom let out his breath, Booker pushed in a little further. He began to circle his finger clockwise, relaxing the tight rings of muscle inside Tom’s body. Slowly, he slid his finger out and back in again as he continued to kiss Tom lovingly. When he had gained full access, he found Tom’s prostate and he gently began to massage the gland. He heard Tom gasp and reaching down, he used his other hand to caress Tom’s cock. “Can you feel it baby?” he asked, sucking on Hanson’s lower lip.  
  
“Yesss!” Tom hissed. “Oh my God Dennis… it feels so fucking good.”  
  
Letting go of Hanson’s cock, Booker concentrated on giving Tom pleasure through anal stimulation. He felt Tom’s fingers stroke his own erection and he moaned into Tom’s mouth. As Hanson’s arousal grew, he became vocal. “Oh fuck… oh Dennis… oh God… oh God!”  
  
Looking down, Booker could see Tom’s cock weeping heavily. “Touch me,” Tom begged, needing to feel Booker’s fingers wrapped around his cock. Dennis started to tug gently at Tom’s cock, causing Hanson to cry out. “Oh Dennis… I’m coming! I’m coming! I’m _comiiing!”_  
  
Tom’s warm juices shot over his stomach and Booker’s fingers. Hearing Tom’s cry of pleasure pushed Booker over the edge and his own orgasm hit just as hard. His body shuddered and he kissed Tom passionately. As his cock softened, he gently removed his finger from Tom’s body. Slowing down the kiss, he pulled away and stared lovingly into Tom’s eyes. “God I love you,” he whispered, stroking Tom’s hair.  
  
Smiling languidly, Tom pressed his lips against his lover’s. “I love you too,” he whispered. “And _that_ was fucking amazing.”  
  
Booker smiled contentedly. “Always happy to please,” he murmured, causing Tom to laugh. Gazing deep into Hanson’s eyes, he gently caressed his lover’s face. “I’m so proud of you.”  
  
Tom giggled. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he joked.  
  
Laughing Booker pulled Tom against his chest and continued to stroke his hair. Hanson had faced and conquered one of his greatest fears and Dennis knew that in time, he would be able to show Tom just how much he really did love him.  
  
                                                                                                                                                         **  
  
The sound of the phone woke Booker from a tranquil sleep. Gazing over at Tom’s sleeping face, he groaned and climbed out of bed. Walking into the living area, he snatched up the phone. “Booker,” he muttered sleepily.  
  
“It’s ten o’clock in the morning and you’re just getting up?” Penhall admonished jokingly. “What have you been doing all night?”  
  
Booker grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he teased, knowing he would get a reaction.  
  
“Jesus Christ Booker! Now I’m never gonna be able to get that image out of my head,” Doug spluttered in horror.  
  
“Hey, I didn’t say anything, it’s your dirty mind that’s conjuring up that picture,” Dennis laughed. “So what can I do for you Doug? Or do you want to speak to Tom?”  
  
“Both actually,” Penhall replied, his voice becoming serious. “They’ve just laid charges against Matthew Richardson, Jerome Jackson, Stephen Lomman, Gareth Jones, James Peterson and Robert Ferguson. They’re interviewing them as we speak.”  
  
“Jesus,” Booker muttered, a lump forming in his throat. “You’d better speak to Tommy.”  
  
Putting down the receiver, Booker went into the bedroom and woke up Tom. He sat on the couch and watched Tom as he listened to what Penhall had to tell him. Hanson barely spoke, he just gave yes and no answers to Doug’s questions in a quiet voice. After several minutes, he hung up the receiver. He remained standing by the phone, not moving, as he stared silently out of the window. Standing up Booker walked over and placed an arm around Hanson’s shoulders. “Are you okay?” he asked.  
  
When Tom turned to face him, his eyes were glistening with tears. “It’s started,” he muttered, before turning away and walking back into the bedroom and quietly closing the door.  



	22. Achilles Last Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **I know _nothing_ about the USA judicial system.  Please forgive any inaccuracies :)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: The sound of the phone woke Booker from a tranquil sleep.  Gazing over at Tom’s sleeping face, he groaned and climbed out of bed.  Walking into the living area, he snatched up the phone.  “Booker,” he muttered sleepily._
> 
> _“It’s ten o’clock in the morning and you’re just getting up?” Penhall admonished jokingly.  “What have you been doing all night?”_
> 
> _Booker grinned.  “Wouldn't you like to know,” he teased, knowing he would get a reaction._
> 
> _“Jesus Christ Booker!  Now I’m never gonna be able to get that image out of my head,” Doug spluttered in horror._
> 
> _“Hey, I didn’t say anything, it’s your dirty mind that’s conjuring up that picture,” Dennis laughed.  “So what can I do for you Doug?  Or do you want to speak to Tom?”_
> 
> _“Both actually,” Penhall replied, his voice becoming serious.  “They’ve just laid charges against Matthew Richardson, Jerome Jackson, Stephen Lomman, Gareth Jones, James Peterson and Robert Ferguson.  They’re interviewing them as we speak.”_
> 
> _“Jesus,” Booker muttered, a lump forming in his throat.  “You’d better speak to Tommy.”_
> 
> _Putting down the receiver, Booker went into the bedroom and woke up Tom.  He sat on the couch and watched Tom as he listened to what Penhall had to tell him.  Hanson barely spoke, he just gave yes and no answers to Doug’s questions in a quiet voice.  After several minutes, he hung up the receiver.  He remained standing by the phone, not moving, as he stared silently out of the window.  Standing up Booker walked over and placed an arm around Hanson’s shoulders.  “Are you okay?” he asked._
> 
> _When Tom turned to face him, his eyes were glistening with tears.  “It’s started,” he muttered, before turning away and walking back into the bedroom and quietly closing the door._
> 
> e bedroom and quietly closing the door.

**Achilles Last Stand**  

Sitting in the offices of Dodson and Dodson, Attorneys at Law, Tom picked nervously at his fingernails as he listened to Henry Dodson speak about his case.  “You need to be prepared Tom, there are going to be a lot of questions as to why you, as a man in his twenties, was not able to fight off a teenage boy.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Booker exclaimed loudly.  “There were _five_ other fuckers holding him—”

“It’s okay Dennis,” Tom interjected quietly.  “I know there was nothing I could do but their lawyers are going to try and use it as a defense.”

Dennis sat clenching and unclenching his hands as he tried to calm himself.  He was finding the whole process of Tom’s court case difficult to deal with.  He hated the thought that the teenagers’ lawyers were going to accuse Tom of fabricating the whole story because he had failed his assignment to find the murderer of Ricky Green.  Although Hanson had told his captain about Matty’s veiled admission to giving Ricky the fatal overdose, it was only hearsay and there was no hard evidence.  Neither was there any DNA evidence to support Tom’s claim that he had been sexual assaulted by any of the boys.  There was some talk of Jerome Jackson entering a plea to a minor charge of battery for inflicting cigarette burns to Tom’s arms but because Hanson had inflicted wounds upon his own person, even that was unlikely to happen.  To Booker, the whole case seemed doomed from the beginning.  But he kept his fears to himself, not wanting to cast any doubts into Tom’s mind about what he was doing.  Dennis knew that even if the jury came back with a verdict of not guilty, Tom would gain some sort of closure from the experience and he would finally be able to close the lid on all the bad memories.

Finishing the meeting, Henry Dodson shook hands with Hanson.  “Try and get some sleep tonight Tom, you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”

Tom nodded and taking Booker’s hand, they left the building.  As they walked down the street, Booker cast furtive glances at his lover.  He thought Tom already looked tired; the black smudges under his eyes a telltale sign that Tom had been having trouble sleeping.  Walking into a trendy café, Booker bought two cups of strong, black coffee and carried them over to a booth.  They sat opposite each other in silence as Tom added packet after packet of sugar to his cup.  Booker reached out and laid a gentle hand on Hanson’s arm, preventing him from pouring anymore into his coffee.  “I think that’s enough,” he smiled softly.

When Tom looked up, his eyes glistened with tears.  “I don’t think I can do this,” he whispered, his face a picture of misery.

Booker chose his words carefully.  “I believe in you Tommy, you’re stronger than you think.  Just remember, whatever the outcome, we both know the truth.  Forget about whether those bastards will be found guilty, you need to do this for your own peace of mind.” 

Taking his lover’s hand in his, Tom gave Dennis an appreciative smile.  “When did you become so insightful?” he asked, as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

“You know me,” Booker laughed.  “Handsome, astute, brilliant and an awesome lover.  I’m the whole fucking package.”

Tom grinned back, his fears slowly evaporating.  He knew Dennis was right, he _did_ need to go through the agony of the court case so he could put everything that had happened to him in Riverbend behind him.  Once the judge read the verdict, he would be able to close that chapter of his life and look forward to a future with Booker.  A week before, he had handed in his resignation to Captain Fuller.  He knew he would never be able to return to the job he loved because of the disability to his hands.  Fuller had been reluctant to accept it at first but Hanson had been adamant.  It was another chapter he needed to close so he could begin to move on with his life.  The police force had paid all his medical bills and he would receive a small pension for the rest of his life but he wanted to find something else to fulfill him in the way the Jump Street Program had.  

Sipping his coffee, he pulled a face as the sugary sweetness hit his taste buds.  Pushing the cup away, he gave Booker a cheeky smile.  “How about you take me home and take my mind off my troubles,” he suggested flirtatiously.

Booker gulped down his coffee and standing up, he held out his hand to Hanson.  “Let’s go,” he grinned.

Tom laughed and taking his lover’s hand, he stood up.  Leaning forward, he pressed his lips lovingly against Dennis’ soft pout.  “I _love_ you,” he whispered.

After kissing Tom tenderly, Booker stared deep into Tom’s eyes.  “Not as much as I love you,” Booker murmured, as he kissed Tom’s forehead.

Entwining their fingers together, the men exited the café and walked back to their car.  On the short drive home, Tom stared silently out of the window.  In the hours to follow, he knew Booker would help him to forget what was to come.  But no matter how much Dennis helped him to put the trial out of his mind, there was no avoiding tomorrow morning when he would stand face to face with his attackers and it would all come down to their word against his.

**

Opening  statements from both the prosecutor and the defense lawyer, took all of the morning session to complete.  Tom chose not to sit in court, preferring to wait with Booker until the court officer called him to give his evidence.  He had asked that no one from Jump Street attend the hearing.  He did not want them to know the extent of what had happened to him, not even Penhall.  The only person he wanted in the courtroom was Booker.  He knew that by being able to gaze at his lover, he would gain the strength he needed to testify.  Dennis knew everything he had endured and therefore, Tom knew he would not view him any differently after the case was over.

The courthouse foyer filled up as various cases convened for lunch.  Hanson and Booker left the building and found a small diner several blocks away.  As neither man was hungry, they shared a grilled chicken sandwich but both men barely touched their meal.  They talked about everything except the case, not wanting to think about what was to come.  As the minutes ticked past, Booker could see the tension in Tom’s face as he became increasingly quiet.  He wished he could carry the burden for Hanson but all he could do was give Tom the love and support he needed to cope mentally, both during and after the trial.  Taking Tom’s hand in his, he gave the fingers a gentle squeeze.  “It’ll soon be over baby,” he muttered. “Then you and I can get on with living our lives.”

Tom tried to smile but his eyes were full of despondency.  “I just can’t help feeling that it’s all a waste of time.  Who’s going to believe that an undercover police officer suffered at the hands of teenagers?”

“We’ve got Doctor Hubert’s and Doctor Haverland’s testimony about your injuries,” Booker pointed out, hoping to alleviate Tom’s fears.  “Plus Doctor Lewis will attest to the psychological difficulties you faced after the attacks.  Don’t give up now Tommy, let’s tackle this with a positive attitude.  Your testimony will be far more convincing if you do.”

Hanson knew Booker was right.  The defense attorney would swoop upon any hesitancy or apprehension he showed whilst on the stand.  He needed to stay calm and deliver his testimony in a clear and concise manner.  If he showed any weakness, it could damage his case irrevocably.  

Looking at his watch, Tom stood up.  “This is it,” he said, managing a weak smile.  “Time to face my demons.”  

Booker pulled him into a warm embrace.  “You’ll do great and if you need some reassurance, just look at me, okay?”

“Okay,” Tom replied.  Taking Booker’s hand, they walked back to the courthouse.

**

When Tom sat down at the witness stand, he could feel himself starting to perspire.  He glanced over at Booker and he instantly relaxed.  He was here now, all he had to do was get through the questioning and it would be over.  As Henry Dodson began to quiz him about how he came to be in the Riverbend Juvenile Facility, Tom’s eyes glanced at Matty Richardson.  The teenager’s eyes flashed dangerously and pursing his lips, he blew Tom a kiss.  Hanson immediately lost focus and he began to stutter.  Remembering Dennis’ words, he found his lover’s face in the crowded courtroom and centered on his gaze.  He instantly calmed and he managed to answer all of Dodson’s questions, including the harrowing details of the rapes, without pause.  However, he did allow the faintest hint of emotion to creep through, without breaking down completely.  His eyes filled with tears as he recounted the first night the teenager’s had entered his locked cell and how after the vicious rape was over, Morty the guard had taken him for a shower.  His testimony was heartfelt and he knew he could not have done it any better.

When the defense lawyer began his questioning, Tom’s fears had completely evaporated.  He remembered Henry Dodson’s instructions and he answered every question in a calm manner without getting angry at the implied suggestions that he had made the whole thing up.  He noticed several of the Riverbend boys squirming uncomfortably in their seats and it gave him pleasure to know that they were beginning to realize the implications of what they had done.

As he left the stand, Tom glanced at the jury and he noticed several members were wiping tears from their eyes.  He had done all that he could do and he had done it to the best of his ability.  Now it was up to Dodson to continue to present his case with the witnesses who were to follow.  Walking out of the courtroom, Tom felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders.  It was over.  No matter what the outcome was, he could now focus on his future instead of his past.

**

Meeting Tom in the foyer of the courthouse, Booker pulled him into his arms and squeezed him tightly.  “You did amazingly baby,” he whispered.  “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Tom’s eyes filled with tears as the emotion of the day finally caught up with him.  “Take me home,” he murmured. “I want to spend some time just you and me.”

Draping his arm around his lover’s shoulder, Booker escorted Tom from the courthouse.  He too wanted nothing more than to lie with Tom in the privacy of Hanson’s apartment.  The next few days would consist of meetings with Henry Dodson’s partner, Maria Dodson so they could discuss how the case was going.  Dennis knew that there were still some difficult days ahead but he was confident Hanson would handle it with the poise he had shown on the witness stand.  

As they lay together, passionately releasing their stress with gentle strokes and touches to each other’s naked bodies, Booker knew in his heart that regardless of the verdict, Tom would be okay.  



	23. Celebration Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Meeting Tom in the foyer of the courthouse, Booker pulled him into his arms and squeezed him tightly.  “You did amazingly baby,” he whispered.  “I’m so fucking proud of you.”_
> 
> _Tom’s eyes filled with tears as the emotion of the day finally caught up with him.  “Take me home,” he murmured. “I want to spend some time just you and me.”_
> 
> _Draping his arm around his lover’s shoulder, Booker escorted Tom from the courthouse.  He too wanted nothing more than to lie with Tom in the privacy of Hanson’s apartment.  The next few days would consist of meetings with Henry Dodson’s partner, Maria Dodson so they could discuss how the case was going.  Dennis knew that there were still some difficult days ahead but he was confident Hanson would handle it with the poise he had shown on the witness stand._
> 
> _As they lay together, passionately releasing their stress with gentle strokes and touches to each other’s naked bodies, Booker knew in his heart that regardless of the verdict, Tom would be okay._

**Celebration Day**  

Dennis had taken a week’s leave from his job so he could be there for Hanson whenever he needed him.  With the trial weighing heavily on Tom’s mind, Booker tried his best to keep him occupied.    For the two days following Tom’s testimony, their routine hardly varied.  They met with Maria Dodson in the morning and after discussing various aspects of the case, Booker drove Tom up the coast so they could lunch at a restaurant that was situated high on a cliff overlooking the ocean.  They did not discuss the case, preferring to talk about mundane things such as sport and world events.  Their evenings were spent alone at Hanson’s apartment.  They would watch television and Booker would cook a light meal before they fell into bed and sated each other’s needs.  Tom was grateful for Dennis’ companionship as it helped him to forget about the trial, even though he knew the outcome was now completely out of his hands. He had already started putting the past behind him and he had begun to think about what type of career path he could take, now that he had left the force.  Deep down, he hoped he could find work that that was as fulfilling as the Jump Street Program had been.  But he doubted he would ever be that lucky again.  His father had been a policeman and he had been proud to follow in his footsteps.  Even when his father died doing the job he loved, it did not dampen Tom’s enthusiasm as a police officer.  Since the age of six, he could not remember ever wanting to be anything but a cop.  Now he had no choice, he needed to find something to fill his time and earn money, even if it meant doing a job that was unrewarding and mundane.

Lying on the rumpled sheets of his bed, Tom moaned as Dennis’ fingers slowly penetrated him.  He could feel Booker’s mouth sucking at his throat and he tried to reach down so he could stimulate his lover.  Booker stilled Hanson’s hand as his voice vibrated against Tom’s throat.  “It’s okay baby, just relax and enjoy it.”

Tom did as he was asked and his moaning became louder as Dennis gently massaged his prostate.  “Ohhh,” he groaned, as his hands gripped at the sheets.  “Ohhh Dennis… ohhh Jesus!”

Booker trailed his tongue slowly along Tom’s collarbone.  “Do you want me to touch you?” he murmured softly.

“Yesss,” Tom hissed, his body writhing beneath Booker.  “Slowly.”

Kneeling up so his legs straddled Tom’s slender body, Booker continued his internal stimulation as the fingertips of his other hand gently ran up and down Hanson’s erection.  “Talk to me,” he breathed, his own cock now hard.

Gazing lovingly at his partner, Tom’s eyes were black with desire.  “I wanna play with you,” he groaned.  “Let me touch you.”

Dennis’ eyes flickered with hunger.  “Okay,” he groaned. “But don’t make me come… not yet.  I wanna make it last.”  As Hanson gently tugged at his cock, Booker’s head dropped back and his breathing became heavy.  “Jesus Tommy, oh Jesus.”

The promise of taking things slow was soon forgotten.  Tom’s body thrashed wildly from the pleasure of double stimulation.  He tore at the sheets as his arousal intensified and he began to pant.  “Oh fuck… oh fuck… oh Dennis… fuck yeah… so good… so good… oh God… oh God… oh _Jeeesusss!”_   As his orgasm hit, Tom’s upper body rose off the bed and he grasped the back of Booker’s head and pulled him roughly towards him.  His mouth found Dennis’ and he kissed him frantically, his tongue forcefully pushing open Booker’s lips so he could gain access.  Dennis removed his fingers and threw his arms around Tom’s narrow waist, holding him upright.  As Tom’s hand quickened he broke their kiss and bit down on the tender flesh between Hanson’s neck and collarbone.  

When Tom yelped in pain, Booker climaxed hard, his warm juices covering Hanson’s hand and both their stomachs.  Finding Tom’s mouth, they kissed passionately until their bodies started to relax.  Booker released his hold and Tom fell back onto the mattress.  A moment later, Booker dropped to his hands, his body poised over Tom’s.  Leaning forward, he kissed his lover tenderly as his finger lightly touched the angry bite mark.  “Sorry baby,” he muttered as he pressed his lips against the red wound.  “You just get me so worked up.”

Tom grinned.  “I could say the same about you.”

Climbing over Hanson’s body, Booker lay down and pulled his lover into his arms.  Tom’s head found Dennis’ chest and he snuggled in close, gaining comfort from the warmth.  Glancing at the illuminated numbers of the clock, he let out a sigh.  “What’s wrong?” Booker asked, as his fingers played with Tom’s hair.

“It’s one o’clock, closing arguments will begin in eight hours,” Tom muttered, his voice suddenly sounding strained.

Dennis pressed his lips against Tom’s forehead.  “And then it will be over,” Booker replied softly.  Pulling up the covers, he continued to stroke Tom’s hair.  “Close your eyes baby and try and get some sleep.”

Tom exhaled heavily.  He knew he would not be able to fall asleep, even after reaching an intense orgasm.  But he closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax against Booker’s gentle touch.  Eventually, Dennis’ hand stilled and Tom could hear his soft breathing as he slept.  But Hanson lay awake throughout the long night, thinking about the trial.  In a few hours, he would know if his testimony had convinced the jury of twelve men and women or if they thought of him as just another corrupt cop.

**

The next day, Hanson refused to leave the apartment, wanting to stay close to the phone in case any news came through.  He spoke to Maria Dodson briefly but she had no real updates.  Booker busied himself around the apartment as Tom sat staring with sightless eyes at the television.  He made lunch but Tom barely touched his sandwich.  As the hours passed, Booker wondered if the jury was deadlocked.  If a mistrial was declared, he did not think Tom would be able to withstand a new trial.  Glancing at the kitchen clock, he saw that five hours had passed since court went into session.  Nerves began to get the better of him and he dropped a plate he was carrying onto the tiled floor.  As the plate smashed, he swore violently and turning, he slammed his fist into the wall.  Whilst he cradled his hand, he felt Tom next to him.  Looking up, he was surprised to see that his lover was grinning.

“What’s so fucking funny,” he snapped, unable to contain his anger and hurt.

Taking Booker’s hand in his, Tom carefully surveyed the damaged knuckles.  “I thought I was the one who was into self harm,” he joked lightly.  Bringing Dennis’ hand to his lips, he kissed the bloodied knuckles tenderly.  “Do you feel better now?”

Placing his hand lightly on the back of Tom’s neck, Booker pulled him in for a kiss.  “Sorry,” he murmured, feeling like a fool for his testosterone fueled display of anger.  “I just can’t stand the waiting.”

‘Yeah,” Tom answered quietly.  “The jury would have gone out hours ago.”

As though by divine providence, the telephone’s shrill ring pierced the air.  Tom stared at Booker frantically, unable to move.  Dennis ran to the phone and snatched it up.  He stood silently before muttering a few brief words and hanging up.  Turning to Tom, his eyes were full of emotion.  “The jury’s coming back, they’ve reached a verdict.”

Tom nodded, unable to speak.  Walking over to the couch, he sat down and rested his head in his hands.  He felt the seat next to him depress as Booker sat next to him and then a strong, comforting arm circled his shoulders.  “Do you want to go down to the courthouse?” Booker asked quietly.

Lifting his head, Tom shook it before managing a half smile.  “I’d rather stay here with you.  It doesn’t matter if I’m there or not.”

Dennis returned the smile and they sat silently watching television, their nerves jangling as they waited for the second phone call.  Forty minutes later and the silence was broken.  Booker gave Tom an encouraging smile.  “I think you’d better answer this one.”

Tom got slowly to his feet and wiped his sweaty palms on the front of jeans.  Moving as though in a dream, he walked the short distance to the phone and picked it up.  “Hanson,” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Booker watched on, his hands clenching and unclenching as his anxiety mounted.  He could gauge nothing about the conversation from Tom’s words or his expression.  Minutes ticked by before Hanson gently replaced the receiver.  Turning to face Booker, his face was impassive as he muttered “Guilty,” before bursting into tears.

Dennis was beside Tom in moments, holding him close as his lover wept with relief.  “You did it baby,” Booker murmured, his own tears spilling from his eyes.  “You fucking did it.”

Tom lifted his tear stained face and gazed at Booker.  “ _We_ did it,” he replied softly.  “I could never have done this without your support.”

“What did Dodson say?” Dennis asked, as he gently wiped the tears from Tom’s face.

“Sentencing will be in a week.  Um, he asked if I wanted to read a victim impact statement.” Tom replied faintly.

“ _Do_ you?” Booker inquired, keeping his voice calm.

Tom looked uncertain.  “I dunno, maybe.  Or maybe I could get someone to read it for me.”

Booker wondered if Tom was asking _him_ to be that person.  He pressed his lips affectionately into Tom’s hair. “If you want me to do it, I’ll do it.  Just say the word.”

Leaning against Dennis’ chest, Tom thought about it for a moment.  Matty Richardson and the others knew _exactly_ what the impact on his life had been since the rapes.  His self-harming and suicide attempt had all come out in court as part of the evidence.  He wondered if standing in front of them, telling them face to face how they had almost completely destroyed his life would be beneficial to him.  Part of him felt it was unnecessary but another voice in his ear said that it would be the final part of his recovery.  If he could stare them down without fear and tell them that they had not defeated him, that he had ultimately come out of the ordeal a stronger person, they would know that they had not won.  They were the ones now facing lengthy prison terms whilst he was free to live his life.  A small smile played on his lips and lifting his head, he gave Booker a determined look.  “No, I think I should be the one to do it.  Make the bastards see that they didn’t break me.”

“That’s my boy,” Booker murmured softly, as tears once again filled his eyes.  “I knew you could do it.”

**

The  courtroom was packed as word of the trial had spread to the newspapers.  Tom stood nervously next to Booker as the defendants were led into the dock.  The judge spoke briefly before addressing Tom.  “Mr. Hanson, are you ready?”

Standing up, Tom approached the small dais.  Facing the defendants, he gave them a hard stare.  All but Matty Richardson dropped their eyes.  The youth stared back insolently, his eyes dark with hatred.  Not dropping his gaze, Hanson addressed the six boys.

“When you entered my cell that night, you knew exactly what you were going to do.  The method of your actions tells me that this was not the first time you had done something like this.  Therefore, today I am speaking on behalf of all those who have not had the chance to have a voice.  That night and on the nights that followed, you took away a part of me that I can never get back.  I am no longer the Tom Hanson I used to be.  The violent and terrifying way you assaulted me, changed my life forever.  I spiraled into a dark depression, to the point where I believed there was no place for me on this earth.  But in the aftermath of my suffering, I found a new Tom Hanson, a stronger, more determined Tom Hanson, who has battled his inner demons and won.  You may think you broke me that night in my cell but you didn’t.  I stand here now, happier than I have ever been in my life, mostly due to the love and support of my partner.  He does not see me as a victim, he sees me as a warrior, a hero who battled the forces of evil and triumphed.  I have my life, I have my lover and I have my freedom.  Your freedom is about to be taken away from you.  I hope it was worth it.”

Throughout his speech, Tom’s eyes never left Matty’s.  By the end, the young offender was staring sullenly at the ground.  Turning away, Tom walked back to Booker, who placed a loving arm around his shoulder.

Clearing his throat, the judge passed sentence.  “The crime of rape is one of the most serious that comes before the court.  That this type of crime could be perpetrated within the walls of a government run facility is incomprehensible.  Yet here you stand before me, having been found guilty of such a crime.   Matthew Karl Richardson, I hereby sentence you to 5 years in prison to be served within the confines of Riverbend until your eighteenth birthday.  Upon reaching your eighteenth birthday, you will be transferred to an adult prison to serve the remainder of your sentence.  This sentence is to be served consecutively with your current sentence.  Jerome James Jackson, I hereby sentence you…”

As the judge continued to sentence each youth, Tom and Booker stood holding each other, crying quietly.  The ordeal was finally over and now they could finally look towards their future together.  



	24. Thank You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **I am taking a few liberties concerning which Led Zeppelin albums contain which songs.  For this story, let us all pretend the song “Thank You” is actually on the second disc of the album Physical Graffiti.  There is a reason for this.  The album Led Zeppelin II begins with “Whole Lotta Love” which to my mind, is too rock n roll to set the mood Booker is looking for.  The second side of the Physical Graffiti CD (third side of the LP) has beautiful songs such as “Down By the Seaside” and “Ten Years Gone”  Therefore, in my fantasy world, the song “Thank You” would be part of this compilation :)  Thanks for reading, I really hope you have enjoyed "Poor Tom"**
> 
> _**Lyrics from "Thank You" by Led Zeppelin** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Standing up, Tom approached the small dais.  Facing the defendants, he gave them a hard stare.  All but Matty Richardson dropped their eyes.  The youth stared back insolently, his eyes dark with hatred.  Not dropping his gaze, Hanson addressed the six boys._
> 
> _“When you entered my cell that night, you knew exactly what you were going to do.  The method of your actions tells me that this was not the first time you had done something like this.  Therefore, today I am speaking on behalf of all those who have not had the chance to have a voice.  That night and on the nights that followed, you took away a part of me that I can never get back.  I am no longer the Tom Hanson I used to be.  The violent and terrifying way you assaulted me, changed my life forever.  I spiraled into a dark depression, to the point where I believed there was no place for me on this earth.  But in the aftermath of my suffering, I found a new Tom Hanson, a stronger, more determined Tom Hanson, who has battled his inner demons and won.  You may think you broke me that night in my cell but you didn’t.  I stand here now, happier than I have ever been in my life, mostly due to the love and support of my partner.  He does not see me as a victim, he sees me as a warrior, a hero who battled the forces of evil and triumphed.  I have my life, I have my lover and I have my freedom.  Your freedom is about to be taken away from you.  I hope it was worth it.”_
> 
> _Throughout his speech, Tom’s eyes never left Matty’s.  By the end, the young offender was staring sullenly at the ground.  Turning away, Tom walked back to Booker, who placed a loving arm around his shoulder._
> 
> _Clearing his throat, the judge passed sentence.  “The crime of rape is one of the most serious that comes before the court.  That this type of crime could be perpetrated within the walls of a government run facility is incomprehensible.  Yet here you stand before me, having been found guilty of such a crime.   Matthew Karl Richardson, I hereby sentence you to 5 years in prison to be served within the confines of Riverbend until your eighteenth birthday.  Upon reaching your eighteenth birthday, you will be transferred to an adult prison to serve the remainder of your sentence.  This sentence is to be served consecutively with your current sentence.  Jerome James Jackson, I hereby sentence you…”_
> 
> _As the judge continued to sentence each youth, Tom and Booker stood holding each other, crying quietly.  The ordeal was finally over and now they could finally look towards their future together._

**Thank You**  

Two weeks after the sentencing of the six Riverbend boys, Booker once again broke his apartment lease and moved in with Hanson.  It had been nearly three months since they had renewed their relationship and both felt that they were ready to take the next step in spending their lives together.  This time Hanson agreed to let Penhall help and Dennis was pleased to see the two men rekindling their friendship.

Not long after he had moved in, Tom noticed a change in Booker’s mood.  Normally optimistic and enthusiastic, Dennis increasingly came home from work wearing a sullen expression, refusing to give Hanson a reason for his brooding.  He refused to discuss with Tom what was troubling him and Hanson felt himself being slowly pushed away until it reached that point where they barely touched each other.  The only reason Tom could think of for Booker’s sudden change in behavior was that he had found somebody else.  Therefore, he determined that if his heart was to be broken, he needed it to happen quickly.  He decided that the best time to confront Booker about his suspicions was when he came home from work.

When the front door opened, Tom steeled himself for Dennis’ usual thunderous expression and ill-tempered greeting.  Instead, Booker smiled broadly and walking over, he pulled Tom to him and gave him a passionate kiss.

Confused by the unexpected display of affection, Tom jerked out of Dennis’ embrace.

“What?” Dennis asked, his voice tinged with laughter.  “Can’t a man come home from work and give his lover a kiss.”

Tom narrowed his eyes and gave Booker a hard glare.  “You think this is funny?” he snapped.  “You’ve ignored me for weeks and now you act like nothing’s the matter?  Fuck you!”

A puzzled expression knitted Booker’s brow.  “I haven’t been ignoring you,” he replied.

“Bullshit Dennis!  _Fucking_ bullshit!  You’ve barely spoken to me and you sure as hell haven’t wanted to touch me.  If you’ve found somebody else just tell me.  I won’t be made a fool of!”

Booker’s amused smile only infuriated Tom more.  Shoving Dennis out of the way, Hanson stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door closed.  A moment later, Booker followed his angry lover.  When he opened the door, he saw Tom lying on the bed.  Walking over, he sat down and placed a hand on Tom’s hip.  “Hey Tommy,” he murmured, the humor in his voice now gone.  “I’m sorry for being an asshole.”

Sitting up, Hanson glared at Booker angrily.  “You _are_ an asshole.  What the hell is your problem?”

Sighing heavily, lay down next to Tom and stared up at the ceiling.  “I should have told you sooner but I wanted to be sure of my decision before I told you I was leaving.”

Tom’s face crumpled.  “Oh my God, you’re _leaving_ me?” he whispered, as tears filled his eyes.

 _“What?”_ Dennis exclaimed, wondering what Hanson was talking about.  Slowly, realization as to the misunderstanding dawned.  “No!  Jesus Tommy, _NO!_   I meant I’m leaving the force.  I handed in my resignation today.”

Tom let out a noisy sigh of relief.  Gazing down at Booker, his expression became concerned.  “But you love being a cop!  Why do you want to leave?”

Dennis sat up and draped his arm around Tom’s shoulder.  “I _loved_ being a cop,” he corrected.  “But now I love you and I’ve come up with a better way for us to earn money.”

Tom cocked his head on one side.  “ _Us?”_ he inquired.  “What do you mean _us?”_

“You’ll see,” Booker replied with a broad grin.  “C’mon, I’ve got something to show you.”  Standing up, Booker took Tom’s hand and pulled him off the bed.  Grabbing up his car keys, they exited the apartment.  Dennis drove for about fifteen minutes before pulling into a parking space outside of a small, shabby block of offices.  

Getting out of the car, Tom gazed at Booker in bewilderment.  “I don’t understand,” he muttered.

Pulling out a key, Booker smiled mysteriously.  “You soon will.  Follow me.”

Entering the main entrance, they walked down a long corridor and stopped outside the last door on the left.  Plastic sheeting covered the glass top of the door, preventing Tom from looking inside.  Using a second key, Booker unlocked the door and pushed it open.  Reaching around the doorjamb, he flicked on the light switch.  As the fluorescent globes flickered to life, Tom peered into the room.  It was windowless and beige paint peeled off the walls.  A single desk sat at the far end but the rest of the room was empty.  

Tom stared at his lover blankly.  “Dennis?”

Booker rolled his eyes in frustration.  “Don’t you get it?”

Hanson shook his head slowly.  “Sorry but I don’t see what this has to do with…”  Tom’s voice trailed off as Booker ripped off the plastic sheeting covering the door.  Stenciled onto the glass in bold, black lettering were the words **HANSON & BOOKER, Private Investigators.**

“Now do you get it?” Dennis murmured softly, pulling Hanson into his arms.  “I want us to have a business together.  We can both get our P.I. license and we can work our own hours and only have each other to answer to.”  Looking around the grungy office, he gave an embarrassed smile.  “I know it’s not much but a lick of paint and some furniture—”

“It’s perfect!” Tom exclaimed, his eyes shining brightly before he punched Booker in the arm.  “But why didn’t you tell me?  I’ve been thinking that you were having an affair with some hot guy from Internal Affairs!”

Dennis threw back his head and laughed.  “Trust me Tommy, there are _no_ hot guys in Internal Affairs.”  Kissing Tom’s hair, Booker gave him an uncertain look.  “Are you _sure_ you’re okay with this?’

Hanson pressed his lips against Dennis’, kissing him tenderly.  “It’s like a dream come true.  I didn’t know what I was going to do with my life but this is the next best thing to being a cop.  You’re a fucking genius!”

“Just add it to my long list of awesome attributes,” Booker joked, instantly receiving another punch from Tom.

Walking into the office, they excitingly discussed various decorating options and business ideas.  After an hour, Tom circled his arms around Booker’s waist and pulled him in close as he kissed him passionately.  He heard Booker groan, it had been weeks since they had touched intimately.  Feeling Dennis’ cock pressing against his own, Tom pulled away panting lightly.  “Take me home,” he murmured, his eyes twinkling mischievously.  “I wanna get naked.”

Booker’s eyes lit up and he dragged Tom out of the office and back to their car.  Driving as fast as he dared, he screeched into their apartment car park and slammed on the brakes.  Pulling a laughing Tom from the car, Booker jabbed at the up arrow of the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the lift to arrive.  When the doors finally opened, he pushed Tom inside and pulled him into his arms, his tongue forcing Hanson’s mouth open in a deep kiss.  After the short ride, they hurried down the hallway and Booker unlocked their door, pulling Tom inside.  When the door slammed closed, they groped each other eagerly as they ripped at each other’s clothes.  Their need to become naked became evident in their total disregard to the damage they were causing to their clothing.  As they tugged and pulled, buttons popped and zips jammed.  Unable to shift the stuck zipper on Booker’s jeans, Tom grunted with frustration as he tried to pull them down over his Dennis’ hips.  Laughing, Booker stepped backwards.  “Whoa,” he said softly. “We haven’t done this for a while, let’s do it right.”

Walking over to the stereo, Dennis placed a CD into the drive.  Pressing play, the hauntingly eerie opening melody of Led Zeppelin’s _“In the Light”_ filled the air.  Tom’s eyes danced with longing and taking Booker’s hand, he led him into the bedroom.  Finally ridding themselves of the last of their clothing, they lay on the bed and for the longest time they just kissed, their fingers reacquainting themselves with each other’s naked bodies.  Breaking their kiss, Tom stared directly into Booker’s dark eyes.  “I want you to make love to me,” he whispered.  “I want to feel you inside me.”

Choking back tears, Booker lovingly swept Tom’s hair from his eyes.  “Oh Tommy,” he murmured as he kissed him softly.  Sitting up, he pulled out the tube of lubrication and a condom packet from the drawer.  Kneeling between Tom’s legs, he gently bent up Hanson’s knees.  He slowly rubbed his finger over Tom’s inner thighs and perineum and feeling Hanson relax under his touch, he smiled lovingly.  Squirting lubrication onto two fingers, he ran a single finger lightly over Tom’s entrance.  When Hanson breathed out, he carefully pushed his finger into Tom’s tight hole.  He expertly opened Hanson up, getting him ready for what was to come.  Looking down, he saw Tom’s dark eyes watching him intensely but his expression showed no fear.  Removing his fingers, Booker opened the condom packet.  His cock was already hard from all their heavy petting and he rolled the protective sheath over his erection before rubbing extra lube over himself to make it easier on Tom.  Giving Hanson a reassuring smile, he got into position.  “Wrap your legs around me,” he instructed softly as he placed the tip of his cock against Tom.

Hanson lifted his legs and encircled Booker’s waist.  Dennis leaned forward and kissed Tom tenderly.  “I love you Tommy,” he whispered as Robert Plant’s voice filled the room,

_Little drops of rain_  
Whisper of the pain  
Tears of loves lost in the days gone by  
Our love is strong  
With you there is no wrong  
Together we shall go until we die. My, my, my 

_Inspiration's what you are to me  
Inspiration, look and see_

_And so today, my world it smiles_  
Your hand in mine, we walk the miles  
Thanks to you it will be done  
For you to me are the only one 

_Happiness, no more be sad  
Happiness... I'm glad_

_If the sun refused to shine_  
I would still be loving you  
If mountains should crumble to the sea  
There will still be you and me 

Gazing deep into Tom’s eyes, Booker slowly pushed his cock into Tom’s body.  He heard Hanson’s sharp intake of breath and drawing out slightly, he pushed back in again, this time gaining full access.  “Tell me when you feel it,” he murmured as he began to rock his hips gently forwards and backwards.  

Wide eyed, Tom nodded, his hands gripping Dennis’ upper arms.  Booker kept his pace slow, gently thrusting in and out, as he unhurriedly made love to Tom.  When Hanson let out a loud moan, he knew he had found Tom’s pleasure spot.  Increasing his thrusts, he bit down hard on his lower lip as he witnessed the delight on Hanson’s beautiful face.  

“Ohhh Dennis… Ohhh Dennis,” Tom panted, his nails digging painfully into Booker’s arms.

Groaning loudly, Dennis’ stroked Tom’s face.  “Do want me to touch you baby?” he whispered.

“Touch me… touch me…” Tom gasped as he arched his neck in passion.

Booker gently tugged at Tom weeping cock and at the same time, he started to thrust harder and faster in and out of Hanson’s, tight accommodating body.  

“Are you gonna come for me Tommy?” Booker breathed heavily.  “I wanna see you come.”

Tom’s eyes flashed with yearning.  “Oh God… Dennis!  I’m close… I’m so close… oh Dennis… oh harder…oh fuck … oh fuck…  ohhh… ohhh… _Ohhhhh!”_

Semen covered Tom’s stomach and the sight made Booker crazy with desire.  He quickened his pace, pounding in and out of Hanson’s body.  “Oh yeah… oh yeah… oh Tommy…oh Tommy…Tommy…Tommy… _TOMMMEEE!”_ he screamed, his body shuddering as his orgasm hit hard.  

Dropping down onto Hanson’s chest, Dennis found Tom’s mouth and he kissed him hungrily, their tongues clashing in a violent storm of desire and need.  Little by little, Booker’s muscles started to relax and he slowed the kiss until he finally broke away, lovingly sucking on Tom’s lower lip.  Slowly withdrawing his cock, Booker rolled onto the bed and pulled Tom into his arms as he gazed at him adoringly.  Captivated by Tom’s beautiful, glowing face, he could not pull his eyes away.  

Tom smiled self-consciously. “What?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing,” Booker murmured as he stroked Tom’s hair.  “It’s just… I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Tom replied, smiling softly.  “You’re the only good thing to come out of what happened to me.  It almost makes all the pain and terror I’ve endured worthwhile.”

Tears filled Booker’s eyes.  “ _Nothing_ makes what happened to you worthwhile baby, but I know what you mean.  I can’t imagine where my life would be if I hadn’t turned up on your doorstep all those months ago.”

Pushing back Dennis’ hair, Tom gazed deep into his lover’s eyes and laughed lightly.  “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to thank you for that and to thank you for never giving up on me.”

A slow smile played over Booker’s lips.  “It should be _me_ thanking _you_ ,” he murmured.

Hanson looked surprised.  “For what?” he asked.

“For letting me be a part of your life.  I’ve never loved anybody the way I love you Tommy Hanson,” Dennis muttered, pressing his lips against Tom’s forehead.

As Booker placed soft butterfly kisses over his body, Tom lay back against his pillow and sighed contentedly.  It had been a roller coaster eight months but he now felt utterly at peace with his life.  He had a new career and a man whom he adored to share it with.  Although he did not know what the future held, he was certain that with Booker by his side, he could conquer any challenge that life threw at him.  

He was once again, complete.

_Finis_


End file.
